Kith and Kin
by Eleanor J
Summary: Cuddy's estranged father becomes mysteriously ill and she calls House in for help. He, of course, can't resist this opportunity to delve into Cuddy's family history. Now officially HouseCuddy romance as of chapter 10, but their friendship is still key.
1. Chapter 1

Kith and Kin

By Ellie J.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. I'm just playing with them. I do own my version of Cuddy's family.

A/N1: Well here's my next Huddy fic. Well, Huddy-ish. I think it's going to turn out to be more of a strong friendship/UST fic than actual romance, but who knows. This takes place during no particular timeframe, so no spoilers that I can think of.

Lisa Cuddy sat at her desk doing some of the interminable paperwork that seemed to fill her days. She sat back for a second and cracked her neck. She really needed to go to the spa and get a massage. Deciding to take a break, she minimized the program that she was currently in and opened her email. She was hoping to hear something from her half-brother Jack. He was graduating from high school soon, and he had been keeping her informed of his college search.

Cuddy had not been particularly close to her father's new family. He and her mother had divorced soon after she had graduated from high school, and he had not expended much effort to keep in touch with her since then. She had gone to his wedding to Cheryl, a woman not much older than she was, a few years later, and she had sent presents when her brothers were born. Her father then failed to attend her med school graduation and she had decided to stop hoping for a close relationship with him. It hurt too much. She sent the boys something for Christmas (they weren't Jewish) and their birthdays each year, and that was the extent of her relationship with them.

That was until about six months ago when Jack had emailed her saying that he wanted to get to know his older sister, and she had responded. They had been exchanging a couple of emails a week since then. Cuddy liked her younger brother. He had a wry sense of humor and seemed to enjoy his life. She had no idea if her father knew that they were communicating. Jack never mentioned him. She'd rather assume that Jack hadn't told him then to find out that her father didn't care enough to even say, "Tell your sister I said hi." Even after all of these years, his indifference still had the power to hurt her.

She scanned her email and felt a pang of disappointment that there was nothing there. Before she could get back to work, her door swung open violently and House ambled in waving a piece of paper around as his eyes glittered dangerously. Her newest secretary was right behind him.

"Dr. Cuddy, I'm so sorry. He just rushed past me."

"It's all right, Gladys," Cuddy assured the woman with an amused smile. "I was expecting Dr. House to drop by sometime this afternoon." She knew exactly what he was here about. Her secretary gave House a nervous smile and closed the door behind her.

House slammed the piece of paper down on her desk in front of her. "Why is there $250.00 taken out of my paycheck for 'Cafeteria Services'?" he asked angrily.

Cuddy picked up his paycheck and smiled at the deduction. "It's to cover those times when you forgot to pay for something at the cash register."

"$250.00! I haven't stolen anywhere near that amount of food!"

"Well I did tell the ladies in the cafeteria to estimate how much they thought you'd stolen this week. They must think you're a bigger thief than you actually are," Cuddy replied smoothly.

"They're the thieves!"

"Oh suck it up! If you want this to stop then you can, you know, actually pay for the damn food you take out of the cafeteria. You make a lot of money, House, and you live like a hermit. You can afford to pay a dollar for a bag of chips."

House stared at her for a moment. "So I can't steal from you, but it's all right for you to steal from me?"

"Please," Cuddy said with a snort. "You have stolen at least $250.00 worth of food in the six years since you've been here." She paused. "You have a choice, you can either start paying for your food or you can continue to allow the cafeteria ladies to estimate the amount of food that you've stolen. It's completely up to you."

He smiled. "Oh you think that you've won, but I'll find some other way to get you."

"I'm sure you will," Cuddy replied. "Now, you have clinic duty in fifteen minutes, and I have a meeting that I have to get ready for," she said to dismiss him. House just sat down and smiled at her.

"House," Cuddy began in a threatening tone.

"Like you said, I don't have to be at the clinic for fifteen minutes, and I thought we could talk about that request for a new staff member."

"You are not getting a Swedish masseuse named Heidi to be at your beck and call."

"Come on," he pleaded. "I'll even let you borrow her every once in a while. As long as you let me watch, of course."

Cuddy was prevented from replying by her phone ringing. She glared at House who sat back with a grin as she picked up the phone.

"Gladys, I don't have time to talk to anyone--," she started.

"I know, Dr. Cuddy, but there's a Jack on line one for you. He says he's your brother and that it's a family emergency."

Cuddy felt her stomach shift uncomfortably. "Okay. Thanks Gladys," she said. "You," she gestured to House. "Out."

House raised his eyes in surprise and got up and walked slowly to the door. Cuddy didn't pay him any attention as she pressed the line to connect to her brother.

"Jack, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly. House stopped at hearing her say a man's name and turned around with narrowed eyes.

Cuddy noticed that House had stopped moving. "Hold on a second," she instructed her younger brother. "Leave or I'll double your clinic hours this week," she said in a forceful tone. House examined her closely before turning around and leaving her office. Cuddy sighed in exasperation as she turned back to her brother. "I'm sorry, Jack. Go on," she instructed.

"It's Dad. He's been sick." Cuddy felt the shock shiver through her body. She couldn't imagine her father ill. He was never sick.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"Things are so weird between the two of you; it was just easier not mentioning it. Besides, Dad's been acting like it's not a big deal so it's been easy to pretend that it wasn't serious."

"What's happened?"

"He's in the hospital. They don't know what's going on, and Mom's starting to freak out, and Dad's being Dad, and the doctor's a jerk who won't explain what's going on to us. Can you come?"

"Jack --."

"Please, Lisa. Mom needs a doctor here that she trusts and who is patient enough to explain things to her. And I think Dad's about ready to go on a rampage here if he doesn't get some answers soon."

Cuddy took a shuddering breath. A part of her didn't want to see her father again. It had taken her a long time to accept her place --or lack thereof -- in his life. It still hurt. But what if this was her last chance to set things right between them? She felt like she had to at least try, or she would regret it.

"Okay. I need to get some things straightened out here before I head over to Philly. What hospital is he in, and who is his doctor?"

"He's at Franklin. It seems like he's got about a million doctors, but Smythe is the name of the guy who seems to be leading the pack. He's an ass though."

Cuddy chuckled a little into the phone. "Dealing with asses is my specialty. I'll call you back and let you know when I should get there. Jack, did you tell Dad and your mom that you were going to call me?" she asked

He was silent for a moment. "No," he confessed.

Cuddy exhaled. "Okay, I need for you to tell them before I call you back. I don't want it to be a big surprise when I get there."

"I will," he promised and then hung up. Cuddy pulled up her calendar on the computer and started rescheduling and delegating her appointments and responsibilities.

House closed the door to Cuddy's office behind him. _'Who the hell is Jack?'_ he wondered to himself in annoyance. House prided himself on his ability to keep informed about the comings and goings of Cuddy's life, and the thought that she might have someone new in her life that he knew nothing about was … unsettling.

He gave a quick glance to Cuddy's new secretary. (Well, he admitted to himself, newest secretary. Cuddy's secretaries rarely stayed long enough to deserve to be called her old secretary. She blamed him, of course. But was it really his fault if she continued to hire people who couldn't take a joke? He didn't think so).

The new one was an older, round-faced woman who was looking at him nervously. He offered her his most charming smile. She might, he decided, know who this Jack character was.

"I'm sorry about before," he said in an apologetic voice. "Dr. Cuddy did something that surprised me a bit, and I lost my temper. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

The woman (What was her name? Glade? Glenys?) looked at him in surprise, but returned his smile.

"That's all right, Dr. House. Thank you for the apology."

"Well when I'm wrong, I feel like I should admit it," he told her as he walked to her desk and sat down on the corner of it.

She smiled at him and pulled out a bag of cookies from under her desk. "Would you like a cookie?" she asked shyly.

"Chocolate chip?" he asked and reached out his hand when she nodded. He bit into the cookie. He barely controlled his gag reflex and managed, what he hoped was, a pleasure-filled smile at the noxious tasting monstrosity that was torturing his taste buds.

"Mmmmm," he said. "Homemade?" he asked.

"Yes. It's my own recipe."

"They're as … delightful as you are," House said with a forced smile as he immediately decided that this lady had to go. She was a public health danger with these cookies. "Well," he said wanting to get his information so he could go wash out his mouth, "Jack certainly put Cuddy in a bad mood."

"Well he did say it was a family emergency," she responded. She then looked thoughtful. "I didn't realize that Dr. Cuddy had such a young brother. He sounded barely old enough to be in college," she commented.

The proverbial light bulb went off in House's head. He remembered her mentioning back at Michigan that she had two younger half-brothers from her father's second marriage. He did some quick calculating in his head and he figured out that the oldest one was probably either a senior in high school or in the middle of his first year of college.

He realized that Gladiola was talking again. "Of course, some people just sound young. My dear Hubert always sounded much younger than he was-,"

"Oh would you look at the time? I've got clinic duty." He got off the desk and headed towards the clinic. "Dr. Cuddy pulls out the whips if I'm even thirty seconds late," he said a fearful voice.

He stopped and got some chewing gum from the candy machines before he signed in, grabbed a patient, quickly diagnosed him with crotch rot, and sent him on his merry way. House stretched out on the exam table and continued his earlier musings about Cuddy and her family.

It was surprising, really, that for as long as they'd known each other, he knew very little about her family. The only reason that he knew about her brothers was that he'd run into while she was shopping for a birthday present or something. Cuddy had always shied away from talking about her family, and since he had a similar reluctance to talk about his, he hadn't pressed her at the time.

If it was a family emergency then that probably meant that Papa Cuddy was sick. He closed his eyes and remembered Cuddy's expression for those brief seconds before she kicked him out of her office. She's been worried, that was for sure, but there was also a hint of … trepidation.

He mulled over the fact that it was her brother who had called to give Cuddy the bad news and not her stepmother. Did that mean that she was incapacitated too? Had they both been in some sort of accident?

House closed his eyes and let his mind follow the different possibilities. He was so engrossed in his musings that he didn't hear the exam room door open and close again.

Cuddy was torn between amusement and annoyance as she watched House lying on the exam table with his hands laced behind his head. He wasn't asleep. His face wasn't relaxed enough, but he definitely wasn't doing his job.

She approached the table and the clicking of her heels tore him from whatever daydream he had been lost in. He turned towards her and gave her a small smile.

"You've only seen one patient this morning," she chided him.

"I've been distracted by personal problems," he told her as he sat up.

"Personal problems? You?"

"Not **my** personal problems," he corrected. "Yours."

"Mine?" she asked, her voice rising.

"I'm trying to figure out if it's just your dad that's sick or if your step mom is in the hospital too."

Cuddy's eyes widened in shock and House enjoyed the moment. "Do you have my office bugged?" she asked.

"Of course."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and sighed. "It's my father," she told him as she sat down next to him on the table. I'm leaving tonight for Philly. I would ask you to behave, but I know that's an impossibility."

House smirked.

"So I'm telling Cameron to keep me informed of any wild and unethical procedures that you want to perform."

"Stoolie."

"Babysitter," Cuddy corrected and felt herself relax for the first time since Jack's call.

Bantering with House had somehow helped her to regain her equilibrium. She was Dr. Lisa Cuddy, and if she could deal with Gregory House on a daily basis, then she could certainly handle her father.

They sat there for a moment in companionable silence before Cuddy scooted back off the table. "Anyways, you need to see at least three more patients before you leave today," she said in her best administrative tone of voice.

He groaned in response.

"And House," she said with a warning in her voice. "Don't blow anything up while I'm gone."

"Killjoy."

TBC

Please Read and Review


	2. Chapter 2

Kith and Kin

By Ellie

Disclaimer: I don't own House. If I did, House and Cuddy would be making sweet, sweet love right now.

A/N 1: Sorry about the long wait. Real Life got in the way. Stupid Real Life.

* * *

Cuddy sat in a parking garage across the street from the hospital. She knew that she should get out and go to her father's hospital room, but she wasn't quite ready to see him yet. She hadn't seen him in almost fifteen years, and she could count on one hand the number of times that she had talked to him on the phone during that time. And now he was sick. 

Cuddy was an expert in dealing with tense situations. She had to be in her line of work. This skill was how she had managed to keep House employed for over five years. But she was at a complete loss as to what to do in this situation.

She glanced at her watch and sighed. Jack and the rest were waiting for her. She got out of her car and headed for the sky bridge that connected the garage to the hospital. She would just show up and see what happened.

The Dean of Medicine in her was studying the hospital as she headed for her father's room. Franklin, like Princeton-Plainsboro, was a teaching hospital with a very good reputation. Everyone seemed to be focused on doing their jobs. Cuddy found it odd to be walking through a hospital where the staff didn't unconsciously defer to her. Under different circumstances, it would be a little refreshing.

She soon approached her destination and stopped several feet away from the entrance to take a steadying breath. She then forced a neutral expression on her face and took those final steps to her father's hospital room.

It was empty. Cuddy's anxiousness went up a notch, and she turned around to go to the nurse's station down the hall.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where William Cuddy's at?" she asked the nurse who was stationed there. "I'm his daughter."

The nurse was about to reply when she heard someone say her name from behind her.

She turned around to see Jack approaching her with a big smile on his face. She looked up, surprised at how tall he was and gave him a hug.

"I'm so glad that you're here," he said into her hair.

"Thanks," she replied as she stood back to look at him. He was taller than average with dark blond hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose. Except for their eyes, which they had gotten from their father, most people wouldn't have thought that they were related. "God, you're tall," she told him with a smile.

"Six feet," he said with a smile.

"Hello Lisa," she heard a light voice from behind her. Cuddy turned around to see her father's wife and her younger brother standing there.

"Cheryl," she greeted with a smile. She noticed the dark circles underneath Cheryl's eyes and the way her blond hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail and reached out to give her a sympathetic squeeze on the arm. "How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

Cheryl took a shuddered breath. "As well as can be expected, I guess. I just wish that they would figure out what's wrong with him."

"Hello Patrick," Cuddy said to the younger teenager who was silently standing behind his mother. Cuddy managed not to stare at the bright blue tips of his short spiked hair.

"Hey," he said in a neutral voice. His eyes, however, studied her intently, trying to figure her out. For a moment, Cuddy was so reminded House that she had to stop herself from smiling. She turned back to Cheryl.

"Where's he at now?" Cuddy asked.

"MRI."

"What are they looking for?"

"Who knows now … A couple of months ago he started having these … sweat attacks in the middle of the night. I would wake up and his half of the bed would be drenched. He then started to wander around and not realize how he'd gotten there. We took him to the doctor who said that he had hypoglycemia and put him on a special diet. It didn't work. He got worse. He still can't maintain a normal blood sugar and in the past few months he's started to change physically."

"How?" Cuddy asked.

"He started to look really old almost overnight," Jack answered for his mother. "He's got these really huge wrinkles and his hair has been growing like crazy."

"That sounds like a growth hormone problem. They may be looking for something in his pituitary gland," Cuddy told them.

"That sounds like what the doctor was saying, but the blood tests came back showing that he actually had low growth hormone levels." Cheryl said with tears in her eyes.

"There still could be a problem there that an MRI can pick up."

Cheryl gave Cuddy a weak smile. "Thanks for being here. There's so much medical jargon being thrown around and it's been kind of overwhelming, and no one seems sure of anything. And he's just getting worse."

"Hey, I'm glad to be here for you. Really," Cuddy told her.

Jack looked over his mother's shoulder. "I think Dad's coming back."

Cuddy looked and she saw a gurney being wheeled back down the hallway and into her father's room. She followed everyone in and watched from the back of the room as the orderly helped her father get back into his bed. He really did look awful. Finger thick wrinkles covered his face, and his graying hair was wildly flying all over the place. Her father was sixty-two years old and he looked like he was eighty.

Cheryl leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Lisa's here," she told him. Her father's eyes flicked over to her for a second before flicking away.

She forced a smile to her face and came closer to the bed. "Hey Dad," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Lisa," he said simply.

"So … how did the MRI go?" she asked.

"As well as being stuck in a tiny tube can go, I guess. I don't know. They weren't very forthcoming."

Cuddy was about to reply when a doctor entered the room. Cheryl got up from the side of the bed. "Dr. Smythe," she said.

"Good evening," he said. "I've been going over the MRI with a colleague and I'm sorry to say that the results are inconclusive."

"Inconclusive?" Cuddy responded. "Was there anything out of the ordinary at all?" she asked.

Dr. Smythe turned to her and gave her a surreptitious once over. Cuddy restrained herself from hitting him. He gave her what some would consider a charming smile. "It's hard to put it into layman's terms," he said.

"Then don't," she said with a superior smile.

"This is my sister, Dr. Lisa Cuddy," Jack said smugly.

Dr. Smythe sputtered a little, but quickly recovered. "Dr. Lisa Cuddy?" he said as he obviously tried to place the name. It came to him. "The Dean of Princeton-Plainsboro," he said with a smile and reached out his hand. "It is truly an honor to meet you. I've read many of your papers."

"Thank you. Jack told me your name, and I read a few of your articles before I headed over here. I particularly enjoyed the one about the role of insulin resistance and the sympathoadrenal system**,"** she told him a tone of voice she usually reserved for donors

"Why thank you," he said.

**"**You said that the MRI was inconclusive. Does that mean that you saw nothing, or that you saw something that you couldn't explain?"

Jack marveled to himself as he watched his sister go to work on Dr. Smythe. She was the perfect combination of assertiveness and diplomacy. She asked questions without putting him on the defensive and Dr. Smythe obviously respected her.

He quietly watched his family watch Lisa talking to the doctor. His father's face betrayed nothing, of course. Jack really wished he knew what had happened between the two of them. His mother was obviously relieved to have someone on "their" side talking to the doctor. Patrick watched with a hint of grudging admiration in his eyes. Patrick had been the only other person in his family to know about his emails to Lisa, but he had never expressed any desire to get to know her. Patrick did not give his trust easily. Jack's attention was drawn back to Lisa and Dr. Smythe.

"Dr. Smythe, do you have _any_ ideas about what may be wrong with my father?" she asked in a firm tone.

"No," he admitted with great reluctance. "All we have is a list of symptoms that make no sense when taken as a whole. I've run all of …" he paused and stared at her for a moment as he realized something. Cuddy knew exactly what he was going to suggest.

"Dr. House is on your staff, isn't he?" Smythe said. Cuddy exhaled and looked at her father and his family for a moment before turning back to Smythe.

"Yes, he is. And you're right. This is just up his alley."

Her father snorted from his bed. "The last thing I need is any more damn doctors."

"Dr. House is one of the world's foremost diagnosticians. He figures out cases that no one else can," she explained to her father.

"Bill," Cheryl said, "if he can figure you what's wrong with you then we need to get him here."

"Well, you may have to go to him if Dr. House isn't licensed to practice medicine in Pennsylvania," Smythe said.

"He is," Cuddy replied, "But House likes to solve his cases as far from patients as possible." She sighed once more. She knew that House would be the best doctor for her father, but a part of her that she wasn't very proud of was reluctant to ask for a consult. Not because she didn't want her father well. She just didn't want to expose this much of this part of her life to House. He already saw into her far more than she was comfortable with. Cuddy could only imagine what he would be able to do with this new insight. She checked her watch. It was before five, but she had no doubt that House had used her absence to leave the office early.

"Let me try and find him and ask him if he can take the case."

"Ask? Can't you just tell him," Patrick asked. "Aren't you his boss?"

Cuddy snorted. "House chooses his own cases, but don't worry. Dad's case has too many unknown elements for him to pass up. He'll take it."

She turned to Smythe. "Can you have someone get his file together for me to send over to House? I know he'll want to take a look at it as soon as possible." She turned to her family. "I'll go get a hold of him."

She walked out of the room and headed out of the hospital. Some hospitals were stricter than others about cell phone usage, and she didn't want to take any chances. As soon as she was outside she started dialing House's number.

TBC

A/N2: Thanks for the lovely reviews for the first chapter. The medical case is based on one I saw from Mystery Diagnosis. I am not a doctor or any kind of medical professional. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Kith and Kin

By Ellie

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

A/N: According to the Amtrak website, it takes less than 40 minutes to go from Princeton to Philadelphia. FYI. Also, I know nothing about hospital procedure and stuff like that. But then, at times, it seems as if the writers of House don't know anything about hospital procedure themselves, so I'm not too put out about it. This chapter is for Prinnie, who is acting as my appointed 'nagger' to keep me going. Thanks!

* * *

Chapter 3

House sat on his couch watching Goldfinger, eating ice cream and wondering for the millionth time what he would do if he ever met the parents who would name their daughter Pussy Galore. He could never decide whether to thank them profusely or to report them for child abuse.

The phone next to him rang and he eyed it evilly. He didn't have any patients and had told Wilson that he planned on doing nothing that evening and to leave him alone. He picked up the phone and answered.

"This better be good. Pussy is just about to introduce herself to Bond, and I don't want to miss it."

"House …" Cuddy began and then faltered. He sat up and paused the television. There was something in her voice that made his normal sarcastic comments die on his lips.

"Cuddy?" he prompted.

"My dad. He's really sick … and the doctors are completely baffled … and I was wondering …"

"Are you sending me the file?" he asked.

"The doctor's getting it for me now," she said, relieved that he didn't beat around the bush.

"Why don't you give me the lowdown," he said as he went to his bedroom to get changed.

"A few months ago he started having heavy night sweats, and my stepmother would wake up to find him wandering the house in a disoriented state."

"Hypoglycemia?"

"Yes, but none of the standard treatments are working. His blood sugars are still dangerously low and now his appearance is changing," she told him.

"Changing?"

"Yes. He's suddenly developed lots of wrinkles and his hair has started to have excessive hair growth."

"Growth hormone problem," House said reflexively.

"His hormone levels are lower than normal, and the MRI of his pituitary gland shows nothing."

"Hmmm…" House said as he continued to get ready. "Definitely sounds interesting. Are you transferring him over here?" he asked.

He could hear Cuddy sigh over the phone. "I don't think my Dad wants to be transferred."

"Really?" House asked, surprised. "He does realize that you're the boss, right? And as the Father of the Boss, he will probably have his ass kissed from here to Philadelphia and back again."

"My Dad likes to do things his way. I'll try and talk him into moving if you really think it's for the best."

"Me? No. I don't care if he's in another state or not. Fax me the file and I'll share it with the lackeys and we'll get back to you about tests that I want run."

"Thank you."

"Hey," he said, needing to get her out of 'gratitude mode.' "If I save your Dad's life, does this mean that I get out of Clinic forever?"

"What? No!"

"Cuddy, I can't believe that you're quibbling about clinic hours when your father's life is at stake."

"Diagnosing people is your job," she reminded him.

"I could decide not to take the case."

"Please," she scoffed. "Your curiosity is piqued. You won't be able to stop yourself until you find out what's wrong with him."

House grunted in annoyance. She was right. "How about we'll just say that you owe me and that some day -- and that day may never come -- I'll call upon you to do a service for me," he said in his best Godfather impersonation.

Cuddy snorted. "Whatever, Dr. Corleone. You need to watch less television."

"Blasphemy!" he chided into the phone. They were both silent for a moment.

"I better get back and tell them that you agreed to take the case," she said.

"Make sure you get a key to their place so that you can search it for me."

Cuddy sighed. "Great," she muttered. "Just get to the office to start looking at the case file."

"I'll contact you when I have something," he told her and hung up. House sat on his bed for a moment and weighed his options. Having made a decision he paged his staff and headed into the office, but not before logging onto the internet to get some quick information. He left with a big smirk on his face.

* * *

Cuddy walked into her father's hospital room. Cheryl and Jack looked up expectantly and Cuddy gave them a reassuring smile.

"He agreed to take the case," she told them, and everyone exhaled in relief.

"And I won't have to go to Princeton?" her father asked a little gruffly.

"I don't think so. House should be able to work his mojo from there. He may send one of his staff here to ask some questions and stuff like that, but there's no reason that I can see right now to switch hospitals unless you want to," she said.

"No," her father said decisively. "Our home is here. I don't want Cheryl and the boys' life disrupted anymore than necessary. I don't want them to have to either deal with a long drive everyday or with living out of a suitcase."

"It's not that long of a drive, Dad," Patrick muttered in the corner.

"You shouldn't have to drive it if you don't have to," he told them.

"What kind of treatment can you get from this guy if he's in another state?" Patrick insisted, a little angrily.

"I know it's unusual," Cuddy told them, "and if it becomes difficult, then we'll look at moving you then. But House is the best. He once diagnosed a patient from a snowed in airport." Of course afterwards he had almost been arrested for being a terrorist risk, but her family didn't really need to know that.

She glanced at her watch. "I better check into my hotel," she told them.

"Hotel!" Cheryl exclaimed. "I won't hear of it. You're staying with us. We have plenty of room."

Cuddy was a little shocked, but she wasn't sure why. She should have expected this. "I don't want to put you out," she said.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're family."

Cuddy shifted uncomfortably and snuck a look at her father, who was studying his blanket, before turning back to Cheryl. "Well … if you're sure it won't be any trouble …"

"Please, it will be great to have another woman in the house," Cheryl insisted. Cuddy gave a short laugh.

"Okay, I guess I'll go cancel my reservation and finish arranging the paperwork necessary for House to officially consult on the case."

"It's almost time for dinner," Jack told her. "We ordered you the salad earlier. I hope that's all right."

"Ordered?" she asked.

"Yes, the hospital lets us order food so that we can all have our meals together," Cheryl answered.

It had been a very long time since Cuddy had shared a meal with her father. She glanced over and met her father's eyes for a brief moment before he looked away. Cuddy turned back to everyone else. "The salad will be fine," she told them.

Cuddy found Dr. Smythe in the hallway and told him House had agreed to consult on the case. Smythe said that he had already called his Dean who had approved everything in the spirit of cooperation and better patient care. Cuddy thanked him and went to finish all of the necessary paperwork before calling to cancel her hotel reservation.

When she returned to her father's room, dinner had already arrived. Cuddy sat down and began to eat. Jack started telling her about his college plans, and she listened with interest. She tried to draw Patrick into the conversation a couple of times, but while he was never outright rude, she could tell that he really didn't want to talk to her. Cheryl looked at Cuddy apologetically and rolled her eyes as if to say, _'Teenagers.'_ Cuddy hid a smile.

"So Lisa," Cheryl said aloud. "What's going on with you?"

Cuddy took a drink of her water. "Not much," she said. "Same old, same old."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, I supervise the staff, make sure that our professors are up to date on all of the latest practices, and secure donors so that we can continue to offer our services at a minimal cost to people who don't have insurance."

"Do you ever get to be a real doctor?" Patrick asked. His mother shushed him, but Cuddy waived her hand.

"Not as often as I'd like," she said ruefully. "I try and schedule myself for clinic duty at least once a week, but sometimes I'm too busy. I miss seeing patients, but I get a lot of satisfaction from running the hospital."

Her answer seemed to satisfy Patrick who went back to his burger. Cuddy peered over at her father who was silently eating his food.

"How's the fruit salad, Dad?" she asked.

"Fine," he answered awkwardly. He played with his food for a little bit before looking up at Cuddy. "So have you had any luck replacing that money you lost from that Vogler guy?" he asked.

Cuddy's face turned red as she looked down for a second before meeting her father's gaze. "Not all of it, but we do all right," she said.

"Hmph," he said.

Cheryl looked at her husband in irritation. She turned to Cuddy. "We've always wondered what happened that you would turn down so much money."

"There are some things more important than money," she replied. "Vogler wanted to make some changes that would have hurt the integrity of the hospital. The Board and I couldn't let that happen." Which was true, in a way. Getting rid of House had only been the first step in the reorganization of the hospital to fit Vogler's agenda. She didn't regret her decision at all, even if the Board still grumbled about it at times.

Her father studied her closely for a moment and then went back to eating his food. As usual, she had no idea what was going though his head. She had never been good at reading her father and could never tell whether he was indifferent, disappointed or proud of her.

They made small talk for the rest of the meal. She was helping Jack get their food trays organized and ready to be picked up when Cuddy heard it: the sound of a cane thumping on the floor accompanied by a familiar, uneven gait. She stared at the doorway in horror for a moment before rushing out of the room to confirm her suspicions.

There he was. Standing at the nurse's station being obnoxious, if the nurse's expression was anything to go by.

"House!" she said in a low, angry voice.

"Never mind, I found her," he told the nurse and headed in her direction.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"You and Wilson are always telling me that I should go that extra mile for the patient. So here I am," he said as if he had suddenly become Mother Teresa.

"Bullshit," she whispered furiously as she pulled him a little further away from her father's room. "Your sick fascination with my personal life has taken control of what little common sense you had!" she hissed quietly.

"Well if you already knew the answer, then why did you ask?" he queried in an infuriatingly reasonable voice. His eyes flickered behind her, and, with a smirk, he continued a bit louder. "Besides Lisa, I couldn't desert you in your hour of need. We've been friends for almost twenty years. Did you really think I would let you go through this all by yourself?"

Cuddy turned and saw Jack, Patrick and Cheryl all standing at the doorway with confused expressions on their faces. She forced a smile. "It seems that Dr. House has decided to come down here after all. Could you just give us a moment?" she asked them. Her family looked at each other and then headed back to the room to give them some privacy.

House's gaze followed them, and then he turned to inspect her appearance. "Hmm… You and the older one have the same eyes, but other than that, I don't think anyone would think that you were related."

"House," Cuddy said as she snapped her fingers. "Focus. You can't just waltz in here and expect to treat patients. The Dean thinks that you're consulting from New Jersey. He's never going to let some doctor who doesn't work here treat a patient."

"Sure he will," he told her. "He said so when I talked to him twenty minutes ago." He leaned in close and whispered, "Just between you and me, I think he's trying to lure me away from you."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I'll show him your legal bills. I'm sure that will scare him off pretty quickly."

House smirked and then looked her over. "Don't worry, Cuddy. He lacks all of your most charming assets," he said with a leer.

"I'm so relieved," she said dryly.

He gestured towards the hospital room. "Time for me to meet the family," he said almost gleefully.

She unsuccessfully racked her brain for some way to keep House away from her family. She could easily imagine the havoc he could wreak with a few, well chosen words. Not to mention the ammunition against her he could obtain from just watching her interact with her father.

"Let's get this over with," she groaned and began walking back towards his room. She stopped suddenly before entering and turned around to face him. "House," she said in a threatening tone. "Just … just don't."

House gave her an expression of perfect innocence that made her blood pressure skyrocket. Her fingers clenched reflexively before she forced herself to calm down. She would have to wait to kill him until after he figured out what was wrong with her father.

They walked into the room, and her family, who had been conversing quietly, looked up at them. Cuddy took a deep breath to gather her strength and began the introductions.

"This is Dr. Greg House," she said. "House, this is my dad Bill, his wife Cheryl, and my brothers Jack and Patrick." She turned and saw that House looked like a kid in a candy store. He approached her father's bed with a huge grin on his face that he didn't even attempt to hide, despite her father's poor health. House spent several seconds inspecting him closely. A part of her was amused to see her father so uncomfortable with House's frank perusal.

"Hmm," he murmured as if perplexed. "You don't _look_ like Satan."

Cuddy turned and smacked House in the arm as her father sputtered from his bed.

"What? I don't … Lisa?" her father was unable to continue as he turned an angry glare towards her.

Cuddy turned that same glare towards House. "Relax Dad, he's not insulting you. He's insulting me," she tried to explain with a forced smile. "It's one of our little jokes. He calls me Satan's Spawn. I call him Crippled Jackass. It's all in good fun," she said with a pointed look in House's direction. He just raised his eyebrow and smirked.

"Yes, just one of those inside jokes from almost twenty years of friendship. I couldn't help myself," he said with his most charming smile.

"I didn't realize you had known each other for so long," Cheryl said trying to smooth over the moment.

"Oh yes," House said as he wrapped an arm around Cuddy's shoulder. "I've known Cuddy since she was a lowly undergrad at Michigan."

Cuddy just stared at him in disbelief. What was he doing?

"House, did you and your team come up with any theories about Dad?" she asked, trying to get him focused back on the case and away from whatever the hell he was up to.

"I talked to the team on the phone during the train ride here. We knocked around a couple of ideas. I've arranged to have some tests run on your dad and we should have the results in the morning. We'll go from there." He sighed deeply and put on a slightly mournful expression, and Cuddy's suspicions grew. "I'm just glad I could catch you before you left. I guess I better be heading to check into my tiny hotel room."

Cuddy's eyes widened in shock as she finally realized what House was doing. She was about ready to counterattack when Cheryl fell for his little ploy.

"Dr. House, we've got plenty of room at our place. You should come and stay with us," she offered.

"No Cheryl," Cuddy replied. "House wouldn't want to put you out. The hospital will reimburse him for his hotel expenses."

"Sorry Cuddy," he said in a tone that would have been apologetic except for the slight gleam of triumph in his eyes. "You suspended my traveling privileges after that little incident with the stewardess. You and the Board said I couldn't expect to be reimbursed by the hospital for anything without written Board approval beforehand."

"Oh God," Cuddy moaned to herself.

"Then I insist that you stay with us, Dr. House," Cheryl said. "Especially with you being an old friend of Lisa's. Besides," she said, "I'm sure you're going to want to look around the house and see if there's anything making him sick."

House raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That is part of my standard operating procedure."

"Well this will save you a trip. Did you bring an overnight bag?"

"I left it downstairs at the front desk."

Cuddy looked at Cheryl helplessly. She couldn't very well order her not to invite House into her own home. The only thing she could do was try and minimize the damage.

Cuddy smiled at Cheryl and grabbed House's arm tightly. "I've got directions to your place. You guys go on. We'll follow." House looked down at her and felt something close to anticipation at the glare she was sending his way. He really loved to make her angry, and it seems as if he'd topped himself this time.

TBC

A/N2: Thanks for all of the lovely reviews. They make for a happy author.


	4. Chapter 4

Kith and Kin

By Ellie

Disclaimer: House and company don't belong to me. I wish they did. If they did, House would have had some sort of nonverbal apology to Cuddy for what he said this week.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Work got crazy. My boss quit. Urgh.

Chapter 4

Cuddy violently threw House's bag into the back of her car and got into the driver's seat.

"Hey!" House complained. "You could have broken something."

"Shut up!" she told him.

"Cuddy--."

"Shut up, and get into the car. Now," she told him in a low, firm voice that brooked no nonsense. He got into the car without a further word and watched her carefully. She sat in the driver's seat taking deep breaths, apparently trying to control her rage. Cuddy was angrier than he'd ever seen her before. And considering some the stunts he had pulled, that was saying something.

She was shaking her head – probably telling herself that she couldn't kill him until he diagnosed her dad – but he couldn't see her expression clearly. He wished that the lighting in the parking garage were a little brighter. Wilson said that he tormented Cuddy because he was both masochistic and loved to stick it to 'the man.' House was honest enough with himself to admit that there was some truth to that – but it wasn't the entire truth. House tormented Cuddy because an angry Cuddy was definitely a sight he loved to see. She was an attractive woman all of the time, but anger, as far as he was concerned, made her truly beautiful.

Cuddy turned and saw him looking at her with a faint smile on her face and she hit him as hard as she could.

"Ow!" he yelped as he rubbed his arm. Tennis had made her arms very strong. "Damn woman. Control yourself."

"Control myself?" she said in disbelief as she smacked him again. "You did not just tell me that I needed to learn to control myself!" She turned to face the front of the car and returned to her deep breathing exercises. She managed to get some control over herself. "I'm still trying to process the fact that you're really here, and that you managed to worm an invitation to stay at my father's house. I just ... Is there any reason - besides your insane curiosity - that you're here?"

"Actually there is," he answered as he looked down to examine his cane. He could feel Cuddy's surprised gaze swing to him.

"What?"

He sighed dramatically. "Cuddy, you're an exceptional administrator and a good doctor under normal circumstances. But when you're emotionally involved with a case, your judgment tends to fly out the window."

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but House wouldn't let her. "Remember Pedro the one-handed cabana boy?"

"Alfredo," she corrected reflexively before she turning away. She knew he had a point. "You could have sent one of your team here to inspect things like you normally do," she said.

"Which one?" he asked. "Cameron would have spent the entire time worrying about you and your family. Chase would have been so scared about messing up that he would have been completely useless--."

"You could have sent Foreman," she argued. "He wouldn't have gotten too emotional, and you know it."

House sighed and looked out of the window and into the darkened garage. "But he's not a good listener."

"What?" she asked, totally confused.

He looked at her and smiled a little self-consciously and turned away again. "I'm only going to say this once," he began, "and I will deny ever saying it to my dying day. But nine times out of ten, my little 'eureka' moments are triggered by something the patient or patient's family say to me."

Cuddy examined his profile and understood. He hadn't wanted to take the chance that she or one of his team would miss the vital clue so he came here himself. He turned back to look at her and got annoyed at the soft expression on her face.

"I'm also dying to figure out your relationship with your father," he said in his most irritating tone of voice. "You have pictures of your cousins' children in both your office and your home, but I don't remember seeing a single picture of one of your brothers. I find that … interesting."

Cuddy settled for giving him a scathing glare as she finally turned on the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

She turned out of the parking garage and onto the darkened street. It was raining fairly heavily and Cuddy concentrated on street names so that she didn't miss where she was supposed to turn.

"I'm hungry," House said, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, did I stutter? I'm hungry. Tengo hambre. Ho fame. Ich habe hunger. Feed me, Seymour."

"Do you have money?" she asked.

"Do I ever have money?"

"Great," she muttered as she pulled into fast food drive-thru.

"You're going to contaminate my body with this greasy, starchy food?" he asked in a faux-shocked voice.

"Says the drug addict," Cuddy murmured under her breath as she got into the long line.

"It would be faster if you went in to get it," he grumbled.

"I'm not getting out in the rain to get you food. You are more than welcome to go out and get it yourself."

"Aren't you nice?" he scoffed. "Making the cripple go out in the rain so that he won't starve to death."

"Shut up, I'm buying you food. Just sit there and be quiet."

They sat there for a while. The line was moving very slowly. House began to fiddle with the radio controls, never staying on any station for longer than a few seconds. Cuddy smacked his hand. House sighed and leaned back into the chair and examined Cuddy from the corner of his eye.

"So what's the deal with you and your dad?" he asked nonchalantly.

She groaned and hit her head on the steering wheel. "It's none of your business, House," she told him in a low voice.

He snorted. "Like that's ever stopped me before."

Cuddy looked out of her window and ignored him. House watched her for a moment before returning to play with the radio controls. Cuddy whirled around to glare at him. He smiled.

"Cuddy, you've known me a long time. You know that I'm eventually going to get it out of you. Now you can either tell me now, in the relative privacy of your car, or I can annoy, prick and wheedle it out of you until you explode with the information. Now that could happen anywhere: your father's room, your stepmother's house, the hospital cafeteria …" he trailed off and watched her wrestle with herself.

Cuddy clenched her teeth. He was right, damn it. She knew that he would slowly drive her crazy until he got the information that he wanted. She might as well get it over with and deprive him of the fun of tormenting the information out of her.

"It's really not that interesting," she began. "I wasn't abused. He never yelled at me or locked me in the closet with a bunch of spiders. Dad just … was never there for me when I was growing up. I might as well have been invisible for all of the attention he paid me. He was busy with work and didn't have time for me," she said in an emotionless voice. House studied her profile. She was struggling to maintain a blank expression, but he could see tears beginning to well in her eyes.

"There's more," he told her. Cuddy didn't respond. "You're not lying, but there's something else going on. Something deeper." Cuddy was silent as she slowly moved the car up in line. House was uncharacteristically silent too. Not because he was giving her a break, she understood. He was silently waiting for an answer.

"I…I was born six months after my parents were married," she began after a several moments.

House smiled. "You were one of those big-boned preemies?" he asked.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom was knocked-up when she and Dad got married. Do you want to hear this or not?" she asked in a waspish tone of voice.

"Sorry," he apologized unapologetically.

"It's not like someone was holding a shotgun to their heads when they got married. They were in love. But there were some … complications when I was born and Mom had to have an emergency hysterectomy. My Dad is old fashioned and …" she trailed off.

"He wanted a son," House quietly finished for her. She looked at him and shrugged as if it didn't bother her. He knew it did.

"A man needs a son," she whispered. She turned to him. "I heard him say that to my uncle that when I was five years old. When I was six, I overheard my mother tell her best friend that she sometimes blamed me for her inability to give Dad the son he wanted."

"Ahhhh…" House said knowingly. "The beginnings of the Lisa Cuddy guilt." She gave him a hollow smile. "You know your parents could have gotten a divorce and found people who could give them what they needed."

"Yeah, but my Dad's old fashioned," she reminded him. "It was my mom who finally asked for the divorce after I graduated from high school. I think she was tired of being with someone who always wanted something that she couldn't give him."

"A son," House said and chuckled mirthlessly. "I should arrange for him to talk to my Dad. I'm sure that he would be glad to tell him that having a son's not all it's cracked up to be."

"It doesn't matter. He's got Jack and Patrick now."

"And that's why you've avoided them all of these years."

She sighed. "That's part of it. It hurts to see him be the kind of father I always wanted with them. I was always an afterthought. The final straw was when he missed my graduation from med school. I realized that he was never going to change and that, for my own sanity, I needed to stop trying to get him to. There was no big fight or confrontation. I just stopped trying to get him interested in my life."

Cuddy nudged the car forward again and rolled down her window to prepare to order.

"What do you want?" she asked quietly.

"Cheeseburger, fries and a coke," he told her. Cuddy placed the order and they moved ahead in line to pay and get the food. Cuddy was pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the street when House continued his interrogation.

"If you weren't talking to Papa, then how did your brother know to get in contact with you?" he asked.

Her mouth quirked in annoyance, but she answered. "I haven't completely cut myself off from them. I send them holiday cards and presents for their birthdays and Christmas. Six months ago, Jack emailed me for some academic advice and we realized that we had a lot in common."

"Awww…" he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "He wants to be a soul crushing Nazi, just like his big sister." Cuddy chuckled, but didn't say anything. He spent the rest of the ride eating his food and mulling over the treasure trove of Cuddy information he had gleaned that day. The next thing he knew, they were pulling into a driveway of a large two-story house. Cuddy turned off the ignition and turned to look at him.

"I am only going to say this once, House. My father's wife is a good woman. She's hospitable and kind and you will behave yourself while you are her guest. If you say one thing that upsets her, then you will have no problems examining my father's condition because you will be his roommate in the hospital. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," he said as they exited the car. Cuddy watched him approach the House as she grabbed their things from the back of the car. She couldn't help but feel that this had disaster written all over it.

TBC

AN2: Thanks for all of the reviews. They make me happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Kith and Kin

By Ellie

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or any of its characters. I make no money from this. It's just for fun.

A/N1: Yay! I did it. I wrote the next chapter. I was so bad. I actually wrote 3 other stories in between the last chapter and this one. So I have been writing. Just not this one.

Chapter 5

Cuddy followed House up to the front door of her father's home. A part of her couldn't believe that she had shared so much with House without much manipulation on his part. But between her father's illness, House's unexpected arrival and the fact that she would be playing interference between him and the hospital over the next several days, Cuddy knew that she didn't have the energy to have a protracted battle with him over this. He would have eventually figured it out anyways, she reasoned to herself. He always did. And this way, she had some control over the information he got.

House pressed the doorbell and they could hear someone coming to open the door.

"Hey guys!" Cheryl said. "We were afraid that you had gotten lost."

"I was hungry," House said as he walked through the front door. Cuddy followed carrying their bags.

"Oh," Cheryl said. "You could have eaten something here."

Cuddy smiled. "I didn't want you to have to go through anymore trouble."

"Oh it's no trouble. Honestly, being the good hostess helps me keep my mind off of what's going on with Bill." She eyed their bags for a moment before continuing. "Now, we only have one guest bedroom, but it's downstairs," Cheryl said, gesturing towards House. "I was thinking that the boys could share, and Lisa could sleep in one of their rooms upstairs." Cuddy looked over to House who was trying to hide his glee at having free reign over the lower level of her father's home.

"That's all right, Cheryl," Cuddy said. "I wouldn't dream of making Jack or Patrick give up their room. The couch down here is just fine with me." She said this last part with a hint of firmness for House's benefit. He stuck his tongue out at her from behind Cheryl's back.

"You can't sleep on the couch," Cheryl insisted.

"She just can't stand the thought of being far away from me," House came up to stand next to Cuddy and wrapped his arm tightly around her.

Cheryl blushed slightly. "Oh … if you want to share the guest --."

"Ignore him" Cuddy insisted as she extricated herself from House's grasp. "It's nothing like that." She looked over at House who had an innocent smile on his face. "It's just …" she trailed off, reluctant to go into detail about House's problems with other people's privacy. "I just don't want to put Patrick and Jack under anymore stress. I do a lot of sleeping on the couch in my office so I'm used to it."

"If you insist," Cheryl said. "Let me get some sheets to make up the couch then. The living room is down the hall that way." Cuddy and House walked in the direction she indicated and entered a large and pleasant room. House was immediately distracted by the large baby grand that sat in the corner by the window. Cuddy smiled as she watched him sit down in front of the instrument and start pecking away at the keys to see if it was in tune. Apparently satisfied with what he heard, House began to play.

Cuddy dropped both of their bags next to the couch and sat down to listen, a reluctant smile forming on her face. It had been a very long time since she had really heard House play. She heard someone come up behind her and turned to see Patrick standing there with an unreadable expression on his face.

House finished the song with a flourish and turned expectantly to his listeners. Cuddy smiled, but didn't say anything, not wanting to feed his ego. She turned to Patrick who had his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You're pretty good," he told House grudgingly.

House smirked. "All thanks to my fascist piano teacher, Mrs. Van Vickle. Very old school. If I didn't play a piece perfectly, she would pull out the ruler and smack my fingers." He paused for a moment as if realizing something for the first time. "Your sister kind of reminds me of her, now that I think about it."

"Ha ha," Cuddy said dryly.

House turned back to Patrick. "The piano's yours?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"It's nice," he said as he started to gently play again.

"Patrick, now is not the time …" Cheryl said as she walked into the room with some sheets, but stopped as soon as she saw that it was House playing the piano. "Oh," she said in surprise. "I thought it was Patrick playing."

"Nope, just me," House said as he continued playing. "So how long have you been playing?" he asked the teenager.

"Since I was six."

"You any good?"

"I'm all right."

"He's one of the best pianists in the area."

"Mom…" Patrick groaned.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," she said with a wave of her hand. "I just came here to say that I put some towels out in the downstairs bath if you guys wanted to freshen up."

"I'll take you up on that," Cuddy said. "You can just leave the sheets on the couch, and I'll make it up when I'm done." She picked up her bags and stood up, accidentally kicking House's bags in the process. One of them made an odd clinking noise, and she stared at it.

"Do I want to know what's in there?" she asked House.

"Just some containers for the samples we'll be taking. I figure we'll go around the house tomorrow and get them before heading to the hospital."

Cuddy sighed and started to follow Cheryl to the bathroom.

"Just don't use all of the hot water in case I want to take a shower later," House warned her.

Cuddy looked over at him with a tired smile. "Behave yourself," she said as she followed Cheryl out of the room.

House briefly looked at Patrick and then back down to the piano. He tried not to shuffle uncomfortably on the bench, but talking to family members was not his strong suit, and he silently damned Cuddy and the step mom for not taking the Baby Mozart with them.

"So ..." Patrick began uncomfortably but stopped. House didn't respond and half-expected him to just leave the room. He didn't. House looked up and saw that the teenager was wrestling with his words about something.

"Just say it, kid. I'm probably the last person in the world who cares about wording things carefully.

Patrick half smiled to himself and met House's gaze. "Do you think that you're going to be able to help my Dad?"

House concentrated very hard on the keys in front of him. He hated this. "I don't know. I … can usually figure out what's wrong with someone, but that doesn't always mean that I can help them." House looked up as Patrick nodded in acceptance. House was about to ask for directions to his room so that he could go there and wait for Cuddy to finish her shower when Patrick asked him another question.

"What … what kind of person is she?"

House raised his eyebrows. "Your sister?" he asked. Patrick nodded. "She's a control-freak, Nazi micromanager who, I'm sure, eats disobedient med students for lunch," he answered almost automatically.

Patrick rolled his eyes in a familiar way that made House want to smile, but he didn't let House's flip attitude divert him. "You said you've known each other since college. I just … I don't know her. Sure Jack's been emailing her for the past few months, but anyone can make themselves sound good over email. I kind of remember her from when we were younger, but then she just stopped coming around. And I don't know why. I don't remember any big fight. On paper, she's my father's perfect child, but he rarely mentions her, and he got very uncomfortable when Jack told him that she was coming to help."

House groaned as he rubbed his face and cursed the impulse that had maneuvered this little invitation to the family homestead. He could be watching porn in a hotel room right now. He looked up and met Patrick's gaze and suddenly remembered being a teenager who needed people to take his concerns seriously. House sighed and got up from the piano bench and headed towards the hallway to make sure that there was no one else around. Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but House shushed him.

"I'm only going to say this once," House said seriously. "And if asked, I will deny ever saying it so listen up. Your sister is smart and funny. And she genuinely cares about the people in her life. She's stubborn as hell and doesn't give up easily. I don't really know what happened between her and your dad, but you don't have to worry about her. She's …" he trailed off for a moment and made a face before going on, "not an entirely horrible person to have in your life."

House walked back to where his bags were and bent over awkwardly to pick them up. "Where's my room?" he asked, needing to get away before Patrick asked anymore questions that he didn't want to answer.

"Down the hall, second door on the left," Patrick responded and House made a hasty retreat.

Cuddy wiped the steam off of the mirror and examined her reflection. The shower had made her feel a little better, but she still looked tired. She wrapped her hair in a towel and changed into her pajamas. She could hear the piano tinkling away as she headed back towards the living room.

But it wasn't House that was playing. Patrick was sitting there now playing something bluesy. She watched him for a moment from the entryway before entering the room. He was good, but he stopped as soon as he noticed her presence.

"Sorry. I just wanted to get some practice in while you were showering."

"Don't apologize," Cuddy told him. "That was beautiful." Patrick looked down and began to put his music away. Cuddy shuffled awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to him.

"Did House go to his room?" she finally asked.

"Yeah, a little while ago."

"I don't suppose there's any family paperwork or embarrassing pictures in there?" she asked.

Patrick's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Not that I know of. Why?" he asked at Cuddy's small sigh of relief.

Cuddy considered her answer very carefully. "House … is very curious."

"He would dig through our stuff?"

"If it were right in front of him, he wouldn't be able to help himself."

"But he's good?"

"He's the best doctor I've ever met," she assured Patrick. "He won't give up until he finds out what's wrong with him."

"He said that doesn't necessarily mean that he'll be able to help Dad." Cuddy was surprised that House would admit this to anyone, let alone her brother.

"You talked?"

"For a little bit. And then he asked where his room was and left as quickly as possible," he said in an amused voice. "I get the impression he doesn't like talking to people much." Cuddy nodded. That sounded more like House.

"It depends on the topic," she answered. "Unfortunately, he's right. If it's something terminal, then there's nothing that we can do. But finding out the problem is half of the battle."

"I guess," Patrick muttered.

"I better let him know that I'm done with the shower. Where's his room?"

"Down the hall, second door on the left."

Cuddy turned around and walked down the hallway to House's room. She knocked on the door.

"Come in," he sing songed.

She opened the door. House was sitting stretched out on the bed reading a book. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I'm done with the shower."

He sighed and checked the clock. "About time. What do women do in the shower that takes so long?" he complained. Cuddy ignored him and watched him get up and toss the book on the bed. He rubbed his leg and took out his bottle of pills from his pocket. She bit back her concern as she watched him dry swallow several of the large white pills. She forced her attention to the book on the bed.

"Lesbian porn?" she asked.

"But of course," he answered with a leer. Cuddy rolled her eyes, but returned the smile. His eyes flicked down to examine her pajamas. "I see you're not wearing your normal nightwear. You're being unusually modest. I understand," he said knowingly. "It would suck for your brothers to see your usual nightwear and then have naughty incestual thoughts about you. But I'm worried about the girls there," he said as he gestured to her breasts. "They may feel like you don't love them anymore if you suddenly decide to cover them up from everyone. You might want to give me a peek just to let them know that you still need them."

Cuddy fought the blush that threatened to engulf her cheeks. "You're so charming. How long has it been since you've been with a woman who didn't require your Visa number upfront?"

He scoffed. "Shows how much you know. Hookers take MasterCard."

"Of course," she said, fighting a chuckle

"Now get out of my way. I want to shower."

"Never let it be said that I got between you and personal hygiene," she said as she left his room. She turned around at the door and gave him a genuine smile. "Goodnight, House, and … thank you."

He looked down and mumbled something unintelligible as she left the room.

House turned over and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand again and groaned when he saw that it was only 2:30 in the morning. Why did his insomnia have to strike tonight? If he were at home he would go to the living room and watch TV or play the piano, but that wasn't an option here since the television and piano were in the room that Cuddy was currently sleeping in. He'd tried to read, but even lesbian sex couldn't seem to hold his interest. House finally grabbed his cane and got out of bed. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was going slowly crazy just lying there.

He stealthily made his way down the hallway and into the living room. Cuddy was sleeping on the couch. He watched her for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips. Normally, he would wake her up, but he had noticed the dark circles under her eyes when they had been talking earlier. She needed to be on her best form if she was going to protect him from the hospital staff tomorrow.

His glance fell upon a large desk in one of the corners. It looked like the sort of thing that one would store family papers in. He looked at it longingly, but didn't think he could rifle through it quietly enough to avoid detection by Cuddy. He looked over to the mantel over the fireplace and spied lots of pictures. He quietly headed over there and examined them. Bill, Cheryl and the boys on various vacations. Bill and Jack at a swim meet. Cheryl and Patrick at piano competitions. The entire family during various holidays.

He moved over and saw one picture of Cuddy on the corner. It looked like it was from her high school graduation. She was standing uncomfortably next to her father with a valedictorian medal around her neck. He glanced back at Cuddy who was still sleeping on the couch and shook his head. Some parents needed to be shot for the crap they put their kids through. He knew, first hand, what it was like to be a source of disappointment to your father. It sucked. Despite Cuddy's earlier protestations, he knew it must have really hurt her to have her father ignore her like that growing up. And because of something as stupid as her gender which she had no control over.

He walked back over to her and watched her for several seconds before leaving the room as quietly as he had come. Perhaps there was something to snack on in the kitchen, and there were definitely other rooms to snoop in.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Kith and Kin

By Ellie J.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish they were, but alas they are not. Please don't sue me for having my small bit of fun.

A/N1: I know … less than a month between updates. It's a sign of the apocalypse!

* * *

Chapter 6

Cuddy slowly became aware of the smell of coffee brewing as she drifted towards consciousness. She opened her eyes and sat up on the couch as she yawned. The coffee smelled good. She left the couch and followed the enticing smell to the kitchen. House was sitting at the table with his feet propped up on another chair. Cuddy ignored him as she went looking for a mug to pour herself some coffee. She yawned as she finally met House's gaze. He was amused about something. She looked down and saw that he had a vaguely familiar photo album in front of him.

"I can't believe I'm just finding out that you used to be a cheerleader," he said before she could say anything. "You have no idea what this little nugget of information has already done for my fantasy life."

Cuddy gasped, put the coffee filled mug down on the counter and snatched the book away from him. "It was only for one year, and where did you find that?"

"In a box underneath my bed. It was like Christmas, my birthday and the Fourth of July all rolled into one."

Cuddy started flipping through the album and realized with a sinking feeling that it seemed to cover her entire life before college.

"I really loved your Madonna phase," House teased.

"I'm sure it couldn't have competed with your little Flock of Seagulls period," she snapped back as she continued to flip through the book. "Mom must have given him the album after the divorce."

House opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Cheryl coming into the kitchen already dressed and ready to go to the hospital. "Do I smell coffee?" she asked before noticing the album in Cuddy's hands.

"I can't believe you found that. We were looking for it a couple of months ago."

"Really?" Cuddy asked.

"Yes. Jack was looking for it." Cuddy fought a wave of disappointment that it hadn't been her father looking for the album and forced herself to continue listen to what Cheryl was saying. "I hadn't seen it since the move. We thought it was strange that he had suddenly developed an interest in you, but, of course, we didn't know about the emails."

"I didn't know that he hadn't told you," Cuddy said apologetically.

"Don't worry. You're his sister. I know that sometimes kids need non-parental adults to confide in. I'm just glad he picked you and not some motorcycle riding, drug addict loser."

House's face scrunched up at the insult, and he opened his mouth to tell Cheryl that he was a motorcycle riding drug addict, but Cuddy quickly pinched him on the shoulder. He stayed silent.

"You don't have anything to worry about. Jack seems like a great kid," she assured Cheryl.

"I know. I'm just worried that he puts too much pressure on himself. He's killing himself trying to keep his grades up during all of this. I told him it doesn't matter if his grades slip, but he won't hear of it."

"Wow, what are the odds of having two insane overachievers in the same family?" House asked as he sipped his coffee, still silently pouting about the 'loser' remark and the subsequent pinch. Cuddy glared at him. He ignored her and turned to Cheryl. "When I first met her, she practically lived at the library. She once got a B+ on a paper and spent the next week going over her notes trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. Then, deciding that it was the professor who was wrong, she started following him around to try and get him to change her grade. The man was this close to filing a restraining order against her."

"House …" Cuddy practically growled as she started to lose her temper.

He studied her a moment, and then, in a move that shocked Cuddy to her very toes, he nodded his head and went back to his coffee. Cuddy's eyes narrowed and it was her turn to study him. Why had he backed down so easily?

Jack and Patrick's entrance into the kitchen distracted Cuddy from her musings. They were both dressed for the day as well.

"Morning," Jack said as he went to grab some juice from the refrigerator.

Patrick gave a little grunt to everyone as he went to pour himself a bowl of cereal.

"Patrick," Cheryl chided. "You'll have to excuse him," she told House and Cuddy. "He's not a morning person."

"That's all right," Cuddy said. "I think I'm going to go get ready," she said and gulped down the rest of her coffee and put her cup in the sink. She turned to House and gave him a look that said, _'Behave or else_.' House just smirked back and Cuddy raised an eyebrow in a slightly threatening manner and left the room. Jack watched the exchange closely and started to chuckle as soon as Cuddy had cleared the area.

House looked at Jack with a confused expression on his face.

"I've just never seen anyone have an entire conversation without words before," he elaborated.

"It's not that impressive," he said in an offhand manner to cover his embarrassment. "Your sister only ever tells me two things: 'Don't be an ass,' and 'Do your job.' I guess three things if you include, 'Stop being and ass and go do your job.' It's just a matter of figuring out the context." House then turned to Cheryl and changed the subject. "Cuddy and I will collect samples and look for possible environmental causes this morning. We're going to need directions to his office to look at things there. You should go to the hospital. We'll meet you there when we're done."

"Don't you need us to be here?"

"Not really. If I have any questions, I can ask you at the hospital. Oh, and the album," he said gesturing towards the book that Cuddy had left on the table. "It looks like some of her cheerleading pictures are missing. I don't know anything about it. It was like that when I got it." He then left to get ready himself. He wanted to collect the samples as quickly as possible so that he could start the real work.

* * *

Cuddy exited the restroom to find House waiting at the door with latex gloves in one hand and a bag full of sample containers in the other.

"Sample time! Your family said that that they'd see you at the hospital."

"You don't expect to find anything, do you?" Cuddy asked. "If it were something environmental, then the whole family would have it."

"There's probably nothing here, but I'm being thorough." He leaned in to whisper, "It's really not good to accidentally kill the boss' dad because you were too lazy to gather samples."

Cuddy glared at him before taking the gloves out of his hand but didn't say anything. She wasn't ready to think about the fact that her father might die.

She went upstairs and started to systematically go through the rooms and search for things that could possibly explain her father's illness. She started in the hallway bathroom and then moved to the boys' bedrooms, not really expecting to find anything, but wanting to put off going into her father's room for as long as possible.

Finally, after searching every other room on the upper floor, she opened the door to the master suite. The main room was comfortable looking, decorated in reds and grays that conveyed a non-cluttered but warm feeling. As impersonally as possible, she started going through the dresser drawers looking for diagnostic clues. Not finding anything, she walked to the nightstand where she picked up a photograph that had caught her eye. It was of her dad, Cheryl, Jack and Patrick on a family vacation. They looked happy. Cuddy fought an uncomfortable knot in her stomach as she put the picture back down and went to the master bath. She started going through the cabinets and inspecting the contents of the bottles. She smiled when she saw that her father still wore the same aftershave that he had when she was growing up. She opened the bottle and inhaled briefly before putting it away again and continuing with the inspection. The pipes under the sink were mold free, and all of the cleaners were non-toxic. She took a sample of the water, just to be on the safe side, and headed back downstairs.

She found House in the living room going through the desk.

"Don't tell me. You're looking for some poisoned envelopes like in Seinfeld."

He smirked appreciatively. "Nope. Just being nosy. This family uses an insane amount of water every month. Is there a hot tub around here somewhere?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes and ignored the question. "Are you ready to go to the hospital?"

"We have to go to your dad's office first and look around there."

"I don't know where it's at."

"Jack MapQuested directions before he left. Let's get going," he said impatiently as he limped down the hallway to the front door. "I hate this grunt work," he grumbled to himself. "That's what I have a staff for."

Cuddy carefully followed the printed instructions, and they were soon at her father's office. He was a manager at a rather large engineering firm. House introduced himself as Bill Cuddy's doctor and then introduced her as his assistant. He then 'volunteered' to look through her father's office which left her to talk to his coworkers.

Her father seemed to be respected and fairly well liked, but she learned nothing about his habits that could have caused his condition. Cuddy entered her father's office when she was done and found House staring off into space as he sat at her father's desk.

"Are you ready?" she asked as she approached him. House had laid out several pictures on the desk, but the one that he had directly in front of him caught her attention. It was of her.

"You look very sweaty," House commented.

"This was from the State Cross Country Tournament. I had just come in third place."

"That's pretty impressive," House replied. Cuddy remained silent as she fought to keep her expression neutral. She was surprised that her father had this picture on his desk. She remembered that day and how she had desperately wanted to hear him say that he was proud of her, but he had remained silent. The same gaping silence that had filled their relationship for as long as she could remember. But here was some sort of proof that he had been thinking of her through the years.

She took a steadying breath and looked up to meet House's curious gaze. "Are you ready to go?" she asked again.

"You didn't eat breakfast."

"What?" Cuddy asked, confused. "I'll grab something at the hospital."

House sighed and looked down as he played with some pens on her father's desk. "Cuddy, don't make me pull out the 'Breakfast is the most important meal of the day' crap. You haven't eaten since yesterday, and you'll forget to eat once we get to the hospital. I need you in top form to defend me from the evil administrators. You can't do that if you pass out from hunger."

Despite herself, Cuddy smiled affectionately at the top of his still down turned head. He really was sweeter than he wanted to be – when he wasn't inspiring a homicidal frenzy.

"I suppose you want to get something to eat too," she said in a resigned voice.

He looked up with a glint in his eyes. "I do my best work on a full stomach. I'm just thinking of your father's health."

"Of course you are. Let's hurry up so we can get to the hospital."

TBC

A/N2: Thanks for all of the lovely reviews. They helped to respark my interest in the story so hopefully the chapters will be coming along a little more quickly now.


	7. Chapter 7

Kith and Kin

By Ellie J.

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. I am just playing with the characters. I do own Cheryl, Bill, Jack and Patrick Cuddy though.

A/N1: Medical stuff alert! I'm not a doctor. This is based on something I saw on Mystery Diagnosis. And believe it or not, this is (with minor tweaking) how they diagnosed the patient.

* * *

Chapter 7

Cuddy and House stopped for breakfast at a small bakery. Since they were in a hurry, House easily talked her into breaking her ban on carbs in favor of getting a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water. House ordered a bear claw and a cup of coffee to go.

They enjoyed an easy silence as they ate on their way to the hospital. Once there, House dropped off the samples that they had taken to be analyzed and went to get the results of the tests he had asked for. The Dean had graciously given him a small conference room – whiteboard included – to think in.

She bit back a smile as she watched him flop down on one of the chairs and spin it around.

"Nice," he said in approval. "Do you think if I came here, I would get a chair like this?" he asked to goad her.

Cuddy refused to take the bait. "House, I wasn't kidding about showing him your legal bills. Face it. No one but me is masochistic enough to put up with you."

"Masochism … is that what it is?" he asked with a gleam in his eye. She found herself smiling, but didn't answer him.

"I'm going to go check in with Cheryl and the boys."

"Don't forget about Daddy Dearest," he said in a taunting voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Definitely masochism," she muttered just loudly enough for House to hear as she left. He just smiled and turned back to his whiteboard and picked up the phone to call his staff.

Cuddy stopped off to talk to the Dean of Franklin as a courtesy before going to see her father. _'Or you're just chicken,' _a voice which sounded suspiciously like House's taunted in her head. She entered her father's room with an uncomfortable smile on her face. Cheryl and Patrick were sitting there watching The Price Is Right with her father. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

"Lisa," Cheryl said, apparently surprised. "That didn't take as long as I thought it would."

"I still don't see why you had to go rifling through our home," her father said, obviously irritated.

Cuddy took a deep breath and forced herself to meet her father's gaze. "Dad, House needs to see the big picture if he's going to figure out what's wrong with you. That includes seeing if there's anything in your home and work that could be affecting you."

"And no one else?"

"It could be a combination of things. House doesn't want to leave any stone unturned. House knows what he's doing. Just let him do his work so he can figure out what's wrong with you."

"He's so brilliant, but he doesn't know how to use a razor or an iron," he muttered.

"Luckily, he doesn't need to use a razor or an iron to diagnose you."

Her father stared at her a moment before nodding and looking back towards Cheryl. A part of Cuddy felt like laughing. That was the most she'd said to her father since arriving yesterday. Of course, she spent so much of her time defending House and his methods that she could probably do it in her sleep.

She turned to Patrick. "Where's Jack?" she asked.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "He went to go find a quiet place to study. Apparently he can't read while people are playing Plinko."

"He's going to college soon, he can't afford to let his grades drop," their father irritably said.

"His grades are fine, Dad," Patrick told him. "He's just too anal to get anything less than an A."

"You could stand to have his work ethic …" their father began, but trailed off. Cuddy noticed that he had gotten much paler and that his face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

"Dad," Cuddy said as she approached the bed. "Dad, can you hear me?" she asked. Her father looked blankly at her as if he couldn't understand what she was saying. His breath was becoming shallower and he started to shake violently. Cuddy ran to the door. "He's having a severe hypoglycemic reaction!" she shouted into the hallway.

The room was a cacophony of motion as medical personnel came in with medication that they injected into the IV. Cuddy just stood there, feeling useless, but knowing it was best to stay out of everyone's way.

After what seemed an eternity, her father's condition began to improve.

"That came on fast," she told the nurse. The nurse gave her a worried look.

"We cannot get his blood sugar stabilized. I hope your Dr. House can figure this out quickly."

Cuddy bit her lip as she understood what the nurse didn't say. If House didn't diagnose her father soon, then he would die.

* * *

House grumpily walked into the hospital cafeteria to by himself a soda before going up to Bill Cuddy's room. There were some holes in the medical history that needed to be plugged up before he and the others could do a proper DDx.

House paid for his soda and then noticed Jack sitting in the corner of the cafeteria reading something. Acting on impulse he approached the young man and sat down opposite him. Jack looked up in surprise.

"What are you reading?" House asked.

"_The Return of the Native_."

"God that's a depressing book."

"Welcome to senior year AP Lit: One depressing book after another."

House studied the young man for a moment. "Why are you here reading it here?"

"The television was bothering me in Dad's room."

"No, let me rephrase. Why are you reading it at all?"

Jack shuffled in his seat. "I need to keep my grades up for college."

"Oh please," House scoffed. "Your father's in the hospital. Teachers eat that kind of stuff up. Besides, colleges will take 'Overcoming Personal Tragedy' essays over grades any day."

"You think I should exploit my father's illness to get me into college?" he asked angrily.

"I'm saying that any kid who would be so worried about getting into college that he would rather do homework than spend time with his sick father would take advantage of any angle he could get." Jack looked down and studied the front of the book as House continued. "But that's not really what you're doing here, is it?"

Jack met his gaze head on. "That's really none of your business, is it?"

House chuckled. "No. But you remind me of your sister so much that sticking my nose where it doesn't belong is almost second nature."

Jack changed the subject. "Aren't you supposed to be doing whatever it is that you do to help my father?"

"I was just grabbing a soda on my way to his room. The history that they took isn't as complete as I would like, and nice change of subject there. I have no idea why I'm imparting this advice to you since imparting advice goes against everything that I believe in, but here it is. Don't waste your time doing things that you have control over just to avoid the things that you don't. If the worst happens, are you going to really care if you read that last chapter of _The Return of the Native_? Come on, let's go to your dad's room," House said as he got up. Jack looked at him, almost resentfully, but followed anyways.

House was relieved when Jack didn't say anything as they got on the elevator. He didn't want to think too much about why he had offered the advice.

The elevator doors opened and they headed towards the hospital room. House's eyes widened in surprise to see several doctors and nurses exiting the room. He heard Jack gasp and watched the young man run into the room. House was right behind him.

Bill Cuddy was lying on the bed, obviously recovering from an attack. House's eyes quickly scanned the room and saw "his" Cuddy in conference with a doctor and a nurse. She looked up and saw him, and House was strangely pleased to see relief flash in her eyes to see him there. He walked over to join her and the other doctor.

"He had a severe hypoglycemic attack. They were able to bring him out of it, though." The doctor next to her quietly cleared his throat. House could see that she was annoyed with the man, but he was sure that no one else could. "Dr. House," she said in her Dean of Medicine voice, "This is Dr. Smythe. He's been in charge of my father's case until now. Dr. Smythe, this is Dr. House."

"Who did this medical history?" House asked without preamble.

"One of my students," Smythe answered.

"Well your student's a moron and so are you if you think that this is an adequate medical history." Cuddy rolled her eyes as she watched Smythe's face turn an interesting shade of red.

"Why don't we discuss this outside my father's room?" Cuddy said as she not so gently guided the men away from her family.

"Cuddy, you have no idea what I just went through with Cameron," he complained as soon as they were in the hallway. "She's going to bring this up every time I complain about her getting too much information from a patient from now until her fellowship ends. She was unbearably smug over the phone."

"Poor you," Cuddy said without a trace of sympathy. She turned to Smythe who was fuming next to her.

"We did the standard history that we do for every patient here," Smythe began as he defended himself.

House snorted derisively. "Well gee. That works well when you have a patient with something easy like appendicitis or syphilis. But did you think that you might want to get some more information when you couldn't figure out what was wrong with him? Or were you too busy having sex with your students to actually look at their work!"

Smythe paled with anger. "I want an apology, and I want it now."

"I'm sorry that you're an idiot, and that you're involved in training an entire generation of idiot doctors." House told him very sincerely. Smythe made a move as if he were about to punch House, but Cuddy inserted herself in between them.

"Stop it!" she hissed at them both. She turned to House. "This is my father. Can you, just once, behave in a manner that won't get you punched?" He looked down and Cuddy was surprised to see a hint of guilt in his eyes. "Go and get a better history." House opened his mouth, but Cuddy smacked him in the arm. "Go." He gave Smythe a dirty look and left.

She turned to Dr. Smythe. "Dr. House is a brilliant physician, but unfortunately, he's also a giant jackass. The thing is, he gets to be a jackass because he's right most of the time." A hint of the anger she was feeling made its way to her eyes and Smythe stepped back a bit. "This is a teaching hospital. So you might want to take the time to teach your students to do something as basic as taking a history." She left Smythe sputtering in the hallway to join House and her family in her father's room.

She found House sitting in a chair as he asked them all his 'standard' medical history questions. She knew she would probably have to get the family out of the room later so that House could ask the more embarrassing questions that her father wouldn't likely answer in front of them, but for now it was just the general stuff.

"Has there been any other changes in your health, no matter how small or insignificant, over the past year?" House asked as he chewed on the pen.

"Not that I can think of," her father answered.

Cheryl interrupted. "Bill, you were complaining about being short of breath."

"That's just me getting old," he told her.

"When did you start feeling short of breath?" House asked.

"A few months before all this started. I'm not a young man, anymore. My age is finally catching up with me." House was deep in thought as he stared at her father. Cuddy held her breath; she knew that look. He had an idea.

"I didn't see any scans of your chest in your file. Has anyone listened to you breathe since this all started?" House asked.

Her father thought for a moment. "I don't think –," he started but was unable to finish as House raced out the door.

"House! What do you think--," Cuddy asked as she followed him. She caught up with him in time to see him grab a random nurse, steal her stethoscope and start to make his way back to her father's room as he disregarded the angry squawkings behind him.

"House!" Cuddy said, once more, trying to get his attention, but he ignored her as he approached her father, put the earpiece in, and placed the stethoscope's diaphragm against his chest.

"Breathe in deeply," he instructed. Her father complied and House listened as he moved the stethoscope around his chest. When he got to the lower right side of his chest he stopped and concentrated. He met Cuddy's gaze, and she knew he had something.

"What is it?" Cuddy asked. He took off the stethoscope and handed it to her. She put it on and listened to her father breathe. She looked up at House in surprise.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"What do you hear?" Cheryl asked, obviously frightened.

"Nothing," Cuddy replied.

"What? I don't understand?" Cheryl asked.

"She doesn't hear anything," House answered for her. "Which is bad. The lungs are a noisy place. We should be able to hear air moving around, but there's nothing going on in that part of the lungs. We need to order scans to see what's going on in there."

"But you have an idea," Patrick said. Cuddy met House's gaze and he seemed to be asking permission to tell them. She nodded slightly.

"I think he may have a tumor in his lung."

"A tumor? Cancer?"

"Probably," House said.

"How is that messing with his blood sugars and causing all of the wrinkles?" Cheryl asked, turning paler by the second.

House looked away before beginning to explain to everyone. He wasn't good at this part of being a doctor. "I believe you have something called Non-Islet Cell Tumor Hypoglycemia. The tumor is secreting a hormone that eats up the sugar in the bloodstream, and also, in rare cases, it can act like Human Growth Hormone. To confirm the diagnosis, we're going to need to run some more tests."

"What's the treatment?" Bill asked.

Cuddy met House's gaze, and she answered for him. "We'll have a better idea once we get a scan to see how big the tumor is, but I would say in your case, because of the difficulty in maintaining a normal blood sugar, they'll probably want to try and remove the tumor, and then treat you for the cancer."

Cheryl started to silently cry, and Bill took her hand to comfort her. The boys went over to support their parents, but Cuddy stayed off to the side, not knowing exactly what to do. House watched the scene with a flash of anger. He knew that they weren't doing it deliberately, but it seemed wrong to have Cuddy standing alone like this.

"I'll go and arrange for those tests," he told the subdued family.

"I'll go with you," Cuddy said, needing to leave the room for a moment. She met House's understanding gaze, but quickly looked away. She couldn't deal with his pity right now.

Tbc

A/N2: On my profile page, there is a link to the Something To It – House/Cuddy Fanfiction Awards page. I'm not saying this to have you nominate me (although I wouldn't complain if you did), but the organizers have put out a call saying that they need nominations, and I'm doing my part to get the word out. It's actually the FAQ page, but it gives instructions on how to nominate and all that jazz on there.

A/N3: Please Review.


	8. Chapter 8

Kith and Kin

By Ellie J

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. First my muse took a trip to Outer Mongolia, and then I got sick. But you all don't care about that. Hopefully now that the gall bladder's gone, I'll be able to concentrate on the writing a bit more.

Chapter 8

Cuddy stared at her father's chest film as a horrible feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. House whistled appreciatively next to her.

"Damn. That may be the biggest tumor I've ever seen," he said, impressed. Cuddy turned to glare at him as she fought the tears in her eyes. "What?" he said defensively, "It's the size of a football."

"House."

"Or maybe a squashed up basketball," he continued to muse.

"House!" Cuddy snapped. "That's my father."

House looked down, and Cuddy saw a flash of guilt cross his face before he looked away. "I know," he said in a subdued voice. "Are you going to have him transferred over to your baby?"

Cuddy sighed. "No," she whispered. House looked over to her, surprise written all over his face.

"These yahoos completely missed the diagnosis!" he exclaimed.

"Nussbaum is the Chief of Cardiothoracic surgery here," she said in explanation.

"Ahhh…" House said in understanding. "Removing this behemoth will definitely require the skill of the top cardiothoracic surgeon in the country." They stood there for a few more moments looking at the x-ray. House leaned over and whispered in Cuddy's ear, "I don't think staring at a picture of the tumor will actually make it shrink." She spared him an annoyed glance before returning her gaze to the film.

"I don't want to tell them," she finally admitted. "The tumor's killing him. It has to come out, but there's a good chance he won't survive the surgery to remove it."

"We could sneak out the back exit and leave it to the morons here to explain it to them. I haven't seen the Liberty Bell yet. I've always wanted to go up to it and smack it with a giant sledge hammer -- maybe give it another crack."

Cuddy looked over to him, darkly amused despite the situation. "You're such a jackass," she said. House smiled, and Cuddy thought she could see a hint of tenderness in his eyes before he looked away.

"Come on," he told her. "Waiting's not going to make it any easier."

Cuddy pondered the task before her on the way to her father's room. She had given patients bad news before, of course, but this was different. Cuddy stopped in front of her father's room with her hand on the doorknob. She turned to House looking for … she wasn't really sure what she was looking for. He jerked his head towards the door and gestured for her to go in. Cuddy took a steadying breath and opened the door. Cheryl, Jack and Patrick were crowded around her father's bed. They all looked up at her expectantly.

"It's bad, isn't it?" her father asked as he examined her expression. Cuddy nodded her head.

"House was right. There's a tumor in your lung. It … needs to be removed as soon as possible."

"We were talking," Cheryl began as she impatiently wiped the tears from her face, "and we want Bill to be transferred to your hospital."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Cuddy said.

"What?" Patrick asked in an angry voice. "These idiots have misdiagnosed him for months. It's their fault it took this long--."

"The tumor's very large," Cuddy said interrupting him, "and it will be very difficult to remove. Dr. Nussbaum would be doing your surgery here, and he is one of, if not the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the country. He's going to be here soon to talk to you about what's going to happen. I really believe that he's your best chance at getting through this."

"Best chance?" Jack asked, "What does that mean?"

Cuddy's throat seemed to close over and she couldn't speak. She looked over to House who immediately saw her problem and answered for her.

"There's a fifty percent chance you won't make it through the surgery," he said in a low voice.

Her father's gaze automatically sought hers for confirmation and she nodded wordlessly. Cheryl grabbed Bill's hand as both Jack and Patrick held onto the other one. Cuddy watched her family as she had earlier, but this time she didn't want to leave. She looked down and bit her lip before raising her head to meet her father's gaze head on. "Dad," she said and then stopped for a moment, not sure how to tell him how much she regretted their distance. She hoped he could see it in her expression.

Her father looked away. "How long before that doctor gets here? Do you think you could hurry them up?" he asked without looking at her.

Cuddy felt her face redden as her father's dismissal slammed into her stomach. She turned to find House's unwavering gaze fixed on her, and she suddenly felt very naked. Cuddy forced her face into a neutral expression.

"I'll … go do that, Dad," she said, her voice trembling a bit. "Then I think I'll go and check in with my hospital and make sure everything's running smoothly. I'll be back as soon as I can," she said as she made a quick exit.

House watched her flee and turned to Bill Cuddy.

"And they say I'm an asshole," he said, the distaste dripping from his mouth.

"Excuse me?" Bill asked in a shocked voice as he turned his attention to House.

"I'm sorry. Did I stutter?" House asked sarcastically. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this angry. "My God! She's trying to reach out to you, despite the fact that you're a worthless piece of shit, and you can't even make a token effort!"

"Don't talk to my father that way!" Patrick told House angrily. "He's sick--."

"That's right," House interrupted, "he's sick – possibly dying -- and he can't be bothered to deal with his daughter," he yelled at Patrick and then turned back to Bill. "I know your type. Hell, my father is your type. You would think that now that you've got your precious sons," he said, gesturing to Jack and Patrick, "that you would be able to forgive her the horrible sin of being born with funbags and a fluffy sausage wallet! But no, that would mean actually admitting that you were wrong in the first place, and that's just not something that you can do!"

Jack and Patrick exchanged glances as some pieces of the family puzzle came into place. Cheryl got up and stood in front of House. "Dr. House, whatever problems there are between my husband and Lisa are between them. I don't think she'd want you to scream about them in public like this.

House bit a sarcastic response back, but only because he knew that Cheryl was right, and Cuddy was going through enough right now. He didn't analyze his need to protect her – that would only lead to questions he wasn't sure he wanted to ask – but, at the same time, it was a need that he couldn't deny at this moment. He looked down, nodded and turned to follow Cuddy and … he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he had to see if she was all right.

"Dr. House," Bill called from his bed. House stopped, but didn't turn around to meet the sick man's gaze. "You're right. I wasn't there for Lisa, but I don't even know where to begin to make it right. It's all too late now," he said in a defeated voice.

"I didn't realize I was talking to a corpse," House replied, still refusing to turn around. "Expressing some sort of interest in her and not pushing her away when she reaches out to you would probably be a good start." Bill didn't say anything, but House could feel his unasked question pounding into his back.

Taking a deep breath, House turned around and briefly looked into Bill's eyes before looking away. "Your daughter is … she's a very forgiving person – even when she probably shouldn't be." He then turned around and quickly left the room.

Cuddy stared out of the window in House's temporary office. After escaping from her father's room, Cuddy had found herself here, staring at his uneven handwriting on the hospital provided whiteboard. A part of her was screaming that she should go. House was sure to find her here, and she wasn't really in the mood to deal with one of his emotional scavenger hunts, but she couldn't seem to make herself leave. Another secret part of her wanted him to find her and – she half snorted at her own ridiculousness – to comfort her. House was about as comforting as a concrete slab most of the time, and it wasn't fair to either one of them to wish for him to be otherwise. Although, that secret part whispered, there had been times when she had seen a different side to him… She shook herself out of her reverie. The most she could probably expect from him was a reminder that her Dad was a jerk and that she shouldn't let it get to her. She needed to stop thinking about House. She was using him to distract her from her problems with her father.

The door opened quietly behind her. She leaned her forehead on the cold window as she mentally braced herself for whatever he was about ready to throw at her.

House stood there for a moment, watching her shoulders tense up at his intrusion. He began walking towards her, the clicking of his cane against the hard floor filling the room. His hand hovered above her shoulder as he tried to figure out what to do. He wasn't good at this, and more than anything else in the world right now, he wished that he was. Screwing up his courage, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her stiffen, but he didn't remove it, and after awhile she began to relax under his touch. They both stood there and looked out of the window.

"You said you hated your father," she said, breaking the silence.

House's breath caught in his throat. "Yes," he answered a little cautiously.

She was silent again, but House waited patiently for her to continue. "I wish I could hate my father," she whispered, "I really do. I think it would just make everything … simpler if I could just figure out how to hate him."

House watched the top of Cuddy's head a moment before gently turning her around. "Yes, because my life is so simple," he said with a sad chuckle. She smiled wryly up at him as she wiped the frustrated tears from her eyes. He stifled the insane urge to wipe them away himself as he lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. "Hating someone … and I mean really hating someone … that's just not who you are."

She looked up with him in surprise – amazed that he could still surprise her like this – and felt the tears once again fill her eyes. House watched is shock as she leaned her head against his chest as she clung to his jacket. His heart pounded in his ears. This was why he wasn't nice. He could say all the right things to people that he knew he wouldn't see again, but she was different. He stood there for several long moments, fighting the urge to make a sarcastic comment.

Cuddy could feel his inner struggle. "Don't say anything," she told him. "Just … be here for a moment." House took a calming breath. Be here. He could do that. He slowly raised his arms and carefully wrapped them around her, and relief filled him as she sank into his embrace. He'd forgotten how tiny she was. The force of her personality often made her seem ten feet tall, but here, in his embrace, he could feel just how delicate she really was.

He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, but he had to fight the pang of disappointment when she pulled back from him. She raised her head and met his gaze with a real smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're … welcome," he said as the unfamiliar words left his mouth. She silently laughed at him as she washed the remnants of her tears from her eyes.

"I really don't want to go back there now," she said.

"There's still the Liberty Bell," he reminded her.

"I don't think I'm wearing the right shoes for running away from law enforcement after defacing a national monument."

She started to walk to the door, and House remembered his little … discussion with her father. He almost called after her, but stopped himself. He had no idea how to, or even if he should, tell her about the argument. He quickly decided not to. She was struggling for control as it was, and knowing about the argument would make achieving that control even more difficult. He could only hope that the other Cuddys would be too embarrassed to bring it up in front of her.

TBC

Reviews, as always, are appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

Kith and Kin

By Ellie J

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing. I have no money. Don't sue.

* * *

Chapter 9

Cuddy stopped in the restroom before heading to her father's room to check out the results of her breakdown with House. Cuddy still couldn't believe it as she snorted darkly: she'd cried in House's arms. He was probably heading to the train station at this moment to get as far away from her and her potential outbursts as possible. The thought of him fleeing pained her as much as it amused her. She'd be the first to admit that she'd wanted to throttle him when he first arrived, but in reality his presence had made her feel … less lonely.

She sighed as she focused on her reflection. Her eyeliner was smudged from the crying, leaving dark circles under her eyes, and her nose had turned an unattractive shade of red. She looked tired. Cuddy rummaged through her purse, determined to get her armor back into place. She didn't want anyone in her family to guess how upset she'd been.

Her thoughts kept straying to House as she quickly applied her makeup. He had been so hesitant when he held her – a complete turnaround from his normal, 'Say anything and damn the consequences,' attitude. Cuddy had always known that House wasn't as mean as he liked to think he was. It was why she forced him to do Clinic Duty. The less time House spent with actual patients, the more he could retreat into his own little world where people were merely a set of symptoms on a whiteboard. Being with people forced him to actually _see_ them as people. Of course, he found the vast majority of them annoying, but there were always those few that seemed to get through and soften him up a bit. It was a little disconcerting, however, to have that softness directed at her. It threw her for a loop and made her feel things that she didn't have time to deal with right now.

Finishing with her makeup, she put it back in her purse and once again looked at her reflection. She nodded in approval as she walked out of the restroom and straight into House.

"What took you so long?" he asked impatiently. "Having problems going wee wee could be a symptom of something serious. You might want to have that looked into."

Cuddy quickly recovered from her surprise and glared up at him. "Thanks for your concern," she told him as she began to walk towards the elevator.

"Well, I am a healer," he proclaimed loftily, and she found herself wanting to smile. They stopped at the elevator door and pushed the button. House fiddled with his cane as they waited.

"So when are you heading back?" she asked in her best Dean of Medicine voice.

House looked up in surprise. "I … I wasn't planning on going back yet."

It was Cuddy's turn to be surprised. "Why? You've done your job. Usually, this is the part where you expel the patient from your memory and go back to watching the porn collection that you think I don't know you have in your office."

House raised an eyebrow. "Cuddy, I should have known you were into that sort of thing. We should have a movie night sometime," he joked before looking away to address the issue of his leaving. "I do usually like to see if the patient lives or dies before I metaphorically kick them to the curb," House said, not very convincingly.

"Only if you have some sort of bet riding on the outcome."

House chewed on his lip as he sought for an answer. He didn't want to admit that in any other situation, she'd be right. He usually stopped caring about a case the moment he figured it out. But now …

He examined her closely as he tried to figure out what she was feeling and bit back the desire to ask if _she_ wanted him to stay. That would make everything that had happened between them just a little too real for his taste, and he certainly didn't want to examine his own motives for wanting to stay too closely. Things were already teetering on the edge of the very nice line they'd use to define their relationship for the past decade or so.

The elevator arrived, saving him from having to answer immediately. She pressed the button to her father's floor before he finally answered. "I'm staying because with my luck, something else would pop up the moment I got back to New Jersey, and I'd have to come back here again. Train rides really aren't that cool, and gas prices are outrageous."

Cuddy quirked an eyebrow, but nodded as she seemingly accepted his explanation. House wasn't positive, but he thought he might have seen a flash of relief in her expression before she regained control of her features.

They exited the elevator and walked to her father's room. Dr. Nussbaum was there with Dr. Smythe, and they were finishing up explaining the operation.

"Dr. Cuddy, Dr. House," Smythe began, "we were just going over the technicalities of the procedure with your father. We're going to get him prepped tonight and start the surgery tomorrow morning at nine."

"Okay," Cuddy said. "How long do you think the procedure will take?"

Nussbaum shook his head. "I can't say for sure until I go in there and see exactly what's going on, but I would say at least eight hours – possibly more."

"Lisa," Cheryl said, "the doctors have arranged for me to be able to spend the night here with Bill. Would you mind taking the boys home and bringing them back tomorrow before the surgery?"

"Of course not," Cuddy replied.

"We're not kids. We don't want to go home," Patrick said. "We want to stay here with you."

"Yes, but your mother and I need for you to go home," Bill said firmly. "I don't want to have to spend the night worrying about the two of you sleeping in the waiting room. I promise we'll talk before the surgery tomorrow."

"It's not like we're going to sleep at home," Jack argued.

"Guys … please," their father asked.

The teenagers looked at each other. "Fine," Patrick said, obviously not happy with the decision.

"Why don't you boys get your things together and get ready to head home?" Cheryl asked in such a way that told them they really didn't have a choice.

They grumbled a bit and went to give Cheryl and Bill each a hug before starting to gather their stuff together. Cuddy stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do with herself.

"Lisa," her father said as he tentatively reached out his hand towards her. Shocked, she met his gaze. He had an earnest expression on his face that for some reason made her as angry as it did hopeful. She bit her lip as she tried to control her face and reached out to take his hand. He gently pulled her towards him and reached up to give her a hug. Cuddy was still for a moment before finally lifting her arms to return it.

"We have to talk tomorrow too," he whispered in her ear. She didn't say anything as she pulled away, but did manage to give her father a smile through the tears she was trying to hold back. She glanced at House, but his face was unreadable.

"Let's go," Cuddy told House and her brothers.

"Dr. House," Bill called from the bed. House turned around to look at him. "Thank you."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Any other time, the look on House's face would have made her laugh, but right now all she wanted to do was go someplace to be alone with her thoughts.

They quickly made it to the parking garage and started to head back to the Cuddy residence. They were driving down the darkened streets when, much like the previous evening, House turned to her and said, "I'm hungry."

Cuddy sighed and glared at him. "Why didn't you eat at the hospital?"

"Unlike back home, they might actually arrest me if I stole from them. There's a big sign that says, 'Thieves Will Be Prosecuted' as you're entering the cafeteria."

"And the thought of paying for your food never crossed your mind?" Cuddy asked sarcastically.

"Blasphemy! Besides, I was too busy finding 'Bubba the Big-Assed Tumor' in your Dad's gut."

"House," Cuddy said reproachfully as she glanced back to look at her brothers. She was used to his insensitive remarks and even found them comforting in some sick way, but she wasn't sure if her brothers could handle House right now. She shouldn't have worried.

"There's a Chinese place that delivers late," Jack said from the back of the car. "We've got a menu at home, and the food's pretty good and not too expensive."

"Wouldn't matter if it was – your sister's paying."

Cuddy frowned at him as she turned the corner, but refrained from saying anything.

They rode the rest of the way in silence and were soon at the house. Jack got out of the car and reached into his pocket to pull out his key. "I'll go in and find the menu," he told them as he jogged towards the front door followed closely by Patrick

"I guess they're hungry too," Cuddy said as they trailed behind her brothers.

House looked at her like she was an idiot. "Of course they're hungry. Daddy Dearest being sick doesn't erase the fact that they're two teenage boys. The only thing they want more than food is sex. They're little masturbating eating machines."

Cuddy smacked him in the arm even as she stifled a giggle. House heard her, though, and felt absurdly pleased that he had managed to coax a smile out of her.

He watched her closely in the dim light of the streetlamp, cataloging each tiny expression for analysis. He could still detect a slight puffiness under her eyes from her earlier breakdown, but he was sure that he was the only one who could do so. She was tired and confused and worried and angry all at once, and, for some reason that he didn't want to think about, there was a part of him that wanted to comfort her.

They finally reached the front door and were met by Patrick. "Here," he said as he handed a menu to House. "Jack's going to order so pick what you want. Their Szechwan stuff is good." House grabbed the menu and inspected it before handing it to Cuddy who shook her head.

"I'm not very hungry. I think I'm going to take a shower. I'll leave some money on the coffee table," she said as she went back to the living room to grab her things. House frowned as he watched her go.

"Do you know what you want?" Jack asked as he entered the foyer.

"Did she eat much for dinner?" House asked.

"She picked at her salad," Patrick answered.

"Lunch?"

Jack and Patrick looked at each other. "She was with you doing tests when we had lunch."

House rolled his eyes in frustration. "I'll take a Szechwan Chicken with fried rice and an order of fried dumplings. Get her an order of Garlic Vegetables with steamed rice. Here," he said pulling out his wallet and handing them several large bills. "Don't give the delivery guy too big a tip." If the young men were confused about House's sudden turnaround about paying, they didn't say anything for which House was supremely thankful for. He handed the menu back to Jack and followed Cuddy into the living room.

"I ordered you some Garlic Vegetables," he informed her.

"I said I wasn't hungry," she said tiredly.

"You've barely eaten anything all day long. You're not going to do anyone any good if you pass out from malnutrition -- especially in an enemy hospital. I can just hear them now. 'Don't go to Princeton-Plainsboro. Their Dean of Medicine is so incompetent that she forgot to eat.'"

"Franklin is not an enemy hospital," she said, choosing to ignore his comments about her eating.

"So you won't get all territorial about the job I got offered today."

"What?" she asked angrily before she could stop herself. House smiled.

"No, they aren't the enemy at all," he said sarcastically. "But you're not changing the subject from the fact that you've hardly had anything to eat today."

"House --."

"Cuddy, you might as well stop arguing with me because I'm going to win this one. Go take your shower, and hopefully the food will be here by the time you're done with all of your girly cleaning rituals.

She exhaled sharply as she picked up her shower things. "Fine," she said angrily as she stomped to the guest bathroom.

House didn't even try to repress a smile as he watched her retreating form. He knew it wasn't nice – she was almost drowning in familial tension -- but he loved getting her riled up.

"So what's the deal between you and Lisa?" Jack asked from the entryway. House turned in surprise. He hadn't heard the teen approach.

"She's my own personal succubus, hell bent on sucking all of my life energy and leaving an empty shell in her wake," House replied automatically.

Jack blushed which amused House. "I'm just … you said you've known her a long time, and you're always gazing at her."

"Whoa," House interrupted. "First of all, I do not gaze at Cuddy. I leer, ogle and check her out on a regular basis, but I do not gaze. Secondly, the reason I do the aforementioned ogling is because your sister has the finest ass on the east coast. I know you've probably not noticed that, with the whole dying father and her being your sister thing, but trust me – your sister's ass could make grown men cry."

"Yeah," Patrick said sarcastically as he entered the room. "Her ass is why you got so angry at Dad today for hurting her."

House glared at the smirking teen and chose to change the subject. "Shouldn't you two be ordering food?"

"Already done," Jack said. "And thanks to a fairly large bribe, they should be here in about twenty minutes."

"I said not to give them a big tip!" House groused.

"A bribe is not a tip," Jack replied in a tone that was frighteningly familiar, and House decided to let it go. A silence filled the room as both Jack and Patrick flopped down on the floor.

"What are Dad's chances tomorrow, really?" Jack finally asked, breaking the silence.

House inwardly groaned. "Nussbaum explained it to you earlier. It could honestly go either way." House watched them both mull over that information. "Hey," he found himself saying, much to his own shock, "if your Dad is half as stubborn as your sister is, then that's only going to help him."

Jack and Patrick seemed to find some comfort from his words, which actually made House even more uncomfortable. What the hell was wrong with him? He was Dr. Gregory House. He did not comfort patients or their relatives. He angered them and was the victim of their physical attacks. Cuddy and her family weren't any different from any of his other patients.

'_Keep on telling yourself that. You may eventually believe it,_' a voice which sounded annoyingly like Wilson said in his head. House grabbed the remote and turned the television on, determined to drown the voice out. He didn't want to listen to Wilson's psychoanalysis when they were in the same room together, let alone when they were in different states. He finally found some wrestling and turned the volume up. Only Wilson could be as irritating when he wasn't around as he was in person.

TBC

A/N: Yes, I borrowed a line from The X-Files. Just one tiny little line. But it fit. And remember to feed the author with reviews. They make her smile.


	10. Chapter 10

Kith and Kin

By Ellie

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say I don't own House. If I did, House and Cuddy would definitely be having a lot more sex.

A/N: I want to thank everyone for the many lovely reviews I've received. You guys are all wonderful.

* * *

Chapter 10 

Cuddy entered the living room to find her brothers sprawled out on the floor as House watched wrestling with a giant scowl on his face. She eyed him carefully as she sat down next to him and continued to dry her hair.

"When's the food supposed to be here?" she asked.

"Soon," Patrick answered from the floor.

"How much was it?"

"Dr. House is paying for it."

Cuddy turned her shocked gaze towards House who continued to stare at the television as his scowl deepened even further.

"Did you lose some sort of bet?" she asked when she finally found her voice again.

A glimmer of humor finally appeared in his eyes as he turned to look at her. "I just like to keep you guessing, Cuddy."

She shook her head ruefully and turned back to the television.

"I think I can actually feel my brain cells dying from watching this crap," she said after a few minutes.

"I can live with that as long as the old grey matter does it _quietly,_" House said pointedly, his gaze fixed on the television in front of him. Cuddy was spared from answering by the doorbell. Jack and Patrick got up from the floor and soon returned to the living room with a bag full of food.

"The delivery guy expressed his gratitude for your generosity," Patrick said with a smirk. Cuddy looked at House with a raised eyebrow, but he was too busy glaring at her brothers to notice. House started taking food out of the bag and putting it on the coffee table.

"Should we be eating in here?" Cuddy asked.

"I think we can suspend the rules for just one night," House said as he placed a cardboard container in front of her.

"I just don't want to get food all over Cheryl and Dad's furniture."

"We'll be careful, won't we guys?" House said in a completely insincere voice.

"Don't worry, Lisa," Jack replied. "We'll be careful." House rolled his eyes at the teenager before taking a bite of his food, but Cuddy noticed that he was careful not to spill any. House then turned to look at her, then the carton of food in front of her, and then back to her again. Cuddy met his gaze for several seconds before she finally gave in and began to eat.

She hated to admit it, but House had been right. The slight headache she'd been fighting finally went away after she finished her food. Her brothers were staring blankly at the television, obviously not really watching, but lost in their own thoughts as they ate. House, of course, was ignoring everyone else's tension as he watched the television. She smiled. It was darkly comforting to have House be House, although she would cut out her tongue before ever telling him that.

She put the empty carton back on the coffee table and stifled a yawn. House's eyes immediately turned to her as she felt him study her. He turned to the boys. "Come on," he told them. "Bedtime." Cuddy looked at him in surprise, but he didn't meet her gaze as he began to pick up their mess. She shook her head and got up to help him.

"I don't know how we're expected to sleep with what's going on with Dad," Patrick said grumpily.

"I'm sure you've got stuff to occupy yourselves upstairs if you can't sleep," House told him unsympathetically as he shoved the leftovers into Patrick's outstretched arms. Jack took all of the trash, and they both went to the kitchen. House inspected the area. "I think your stepmother's furniture survived."

Cuddy watched him for a moment as she reflected on all he'd done for her today. "Thank you," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

House looked a little surprised, but soon recovered. "Yeah, well with two boys, all of this stuff is probably scotch guarded anyways."

Her mouth quirked in amusement as her gaze and a slight caress on his arm told him that she was thankful for so much more than the safe furniture. He nodded quickly in acknowledgement before looking away, obviously uncomfortable.

Patrick and Jack returned and Cuddy quickly let go of his arm. House chided himself for missing her touch even as he felt grateful that the boys hadn't noticed the contact. His own feelings about Cuddy were screwed up enough without having to deal with their stupid comments on the subject.

"Goodnight," Cuddy told the teenagers. Jack stood in front of her, a little hesitant, before finally making a decision and reached out to hug his sister. Cuddy was surprised, but returned the hug as she suddenly found herself fighting tears. As soon as Jack let go, she found herself in Patrick's embrace. She hugged back, a few tears finally managing to escape and make their way down her cheek. Patrick pulled back and she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

The boys both wished House a goodnight before heading upstairs to their bedrooms. House knew that he should go to his room now, but for some reason his feet wouldn't move.

"Goodnight, House."

""Night, Cuddy," House replied and stood there for another moment.

"Did you need something?" she asked when he didn't head back to his room.

Her question galvanized him into motion. "No," he replied, ignoring the temptation to ask about his goodnight hug. He headed back to his room, knowing that sleep would far away from him tonight.

* * *

House turned around and looked at the clock next to his bed. It was late. Or very early, he reflected, depending on your point of view. He could faintly hear the television playing from the living room. It looked like, despite her obvious exhaustion, she was having as difficult time resting as everyone else in the house. He massaged his thigh as his thoughts continued to dwell on her. She was probably dreading tomorrow's conversation with her father as much as she wanted to finally have it. He just hoped her father would, for once, be the kind of dad she needed and not screw with her. The kind of father his own had never been. 

'_She needs someone to talk to_,' Wilson's phantom voice told him from out of nowhere. House growled in annoyance. It wasn't really his business, he told Faux-Wilson. He wasn't that guy. This afternoon had been an aberration. He didn't do the caring friend thing. The real Wilson was that guy. Cameron was that guy. Hell, Chase was better at being that guy than he was. If he went out there, he would say something stupid and make everything worse. These were all excellent reasons why he should just stay in bed and get some sleep, so he was surprised to find himself standing at the entryway to the living room watching her watch an infomercial.

He stood there for a moment, wondering what the hell he was doing before something forced him to speak up. "You know," he said in a low voice as he entered the room, "I've never had any luck falling asleep to these things."

She turned around in surprise. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

House approached her and gestured for her to scoot over. He could see her frown from the light of the television, but she did as he asked. He sat down next to her and grabbed the remote control from her hand.

"Hey!" she said as she attempted to get it back.

"Infomercials are boring as hell, but I don't think they're going to help you go to sleep."

"And what do you suggest?" she asked sarcastically.

"I, myself, prefer Monster Truck Jam -."

"I'm not watching Grave Digger with you."

"But in your case," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted, "I think a nice documentary will work."

"Really?" she asked dubiously.

"Yep. It will be just interesting enough to engage that part of your mind that's not letting you sleep, but not interesting enough to actually keep you awake," he said as he channel surfed for a while before settling on a documentary on moonshiners and bootleggers.

Cuddy laughed softly as they watched the documentary silently together. House didn't want to reflect on how … comfortable this felt. A half an hour into the show he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder and he turned to see Cuddy resting her head against him, her eyes closed. He rolled his eyes at the clichéd situation as he tried to figure out what he should do. He wondered briefly if he could get up and reposition her on the couch without waking her up, but he knew that was unlikely with his leg. He also knew that if he woke her up now, she'd probably be up for the rest of the night, and she really did need her sleep.

Sighing, House carefully wrapped his arm around her and he half-smiled as she snuggled in closer to him. He hooked his cane on the coffee table leg and pulled it closer so that he could stretch his legs out. An unfamiliar feeling he could only describe as contentment bubbled up inside of him. He knew that between his leg and Cuddy's reaction, he would probably regret this tomorrow, but he couldn't bring himself to care. This felt too good right now.

* * *

Cuddy shifted as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She inhaled deeply and marveled at how good her pillow smelled this morning, even if it was a little on the lumpy side. She buried her nose in it as she fought against waking up. Her plan to stay asleep disappeared as soon as her pillow began to shake under her. She pushed her head up, eyes wide open, and met House's laughing gaze. Cuddy blushed. She must have fallen asleep on him last night, and he hadn't woken her up. 

"Did you just wipe your nose on my shirt?" he asked in an amused voice. Cuddy felt her cheeks redden even further as she remembered just wanting to get closer to the pleasant scent – House's scent. Cuddy didn't answer – it was too early to be witty – and started to lift herself off of House. He prevented her from following through by tightening his arm around her. She looked up and was startled by the almost tender look in House's expression. That look, in combination with his awkward care over the past couple of days, broke something loose inside of her, and before she could think about it too much, she leaned up and gently kissed him.

She could feel his gasp of surprise against her lips, but he quickly recovered as he ran his hand through her hair and gently cupped her cheek as his other arm held her tightly to him. She knew that she should probably pull away. This was wrong for so many different reasons, but all she really cared about was the gentle pressure of his lips and the way his thumb caressed her cheek as he held her face.

The loud clunking of Jack and Patrick walking down the stairs startled them both. Cuddy jumped back and sat on the opposite side of the couch as she stared uncertainly at House. His eyes were glittering with a hunger that both terrified and aroused her.

Jack and Patrick walked into the living room, oblivious to the moment they had just interrupted.

"What time are we leaving for the hospital?" Patrick asked tiredly.

"As soon as we can get ready," Cuddy replied. She watched House smirk at the still husky tone of her voice, and she tried to glare at him. His smile grew wider. He shifted on the couch, and his face grimaced in pain as his hand immediately went to his leg. Cuddy watched the action and cursed herself for forgetting. He was propping his leg up on the coffee table, but she doubted that had been a comfortable way to spend the night.

"Are your pills in the guest room?" she asked seriously.

"On the nightstand."

"Jack, go and get them, please, and Patrick, go get him a glass of water," she told them and waited for them to leave before turning back towards House.

"You should have woken me up," she scolded him. He smiled through the pain as he rubbed his thigh.

"Then you would have been all screechy and I wouldn't have gotten my morning kiss," he said with a smile. Cuddy felt her cheeks grow warm, but was saved from answering when Jack returned with House's pill bottle.

"Ahhh … the breakfast of champions," he said as he opened the bottle and poured out some pills. Patrick returned and handed the glass of water to House who swallowed the pills and drained the glass in several long gulps.

Cuddy got up from the couch and went to her suitcase to get some comfortable clothing to wear. "I'm going to get ready," she said unnecessarily.

"Yell if you need any help fastening anything black and lacy," House called after her.

Cuddy didn't respond as she retreated to the restroom. The memory of the kiss was too fresh in her mind for her to fall into the rhythm of their normal bantering.

TBC

A/N2: I know, I know. My updating must be one of the signs of the apocalypse. Sorry for the long delay. Life. Vacation. Uncooperative Muse. You know. I can't say I'm gonna update any quicker, though, because I have to write a fic for a fic exchange next.

Drop a line and let me know what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

Kith and Kin

By ellie

Disclaimer: Totally not mine. I know that.

A/N: It's a miracle! I'm updating! I'm so sorry. I will try never to take three months between updates again!

* * *

Chapter 11

Cuddy stared at her reflection in the mirror of the restroom as a knot of nervousness wound tighter in her stomach. She had kissed House. What the hell was wrong with her? A part of her still couldn't believe that she'd actually done it, but the memory of his stubble against her face was too vivid to be a mere hallucination. Wasn't her life complicated enough at the moment?

She sighed as she ran a brush through her hair. She didn't have time to think about it now. She had to get ready and go to the hospital. House would just have to wait until later.

"Lisa, are you almost ready?" Jack called from the hallway. "We should probably be leaving soon."

"I'll be out in a minute," she yelled as she quickly applied some lipstick before leaving the restroom. She returned to the living room to see that House had also taken the opportunity to change. He examined her closely with a serious expression on his face. She nodded her head to let him know that she was doing all right – even as she fought the faint flutterings caused by his close inspection. _'Get a grip,'_ she told herself impatiently as she followed everyone out of the house towards her car.

The early morning traffic was light as they silently made their way to the hospital. She supposed the stress of what was going to happen made any conversation seem trite. Even House was uncharacteristically silent as he stared out at the passing scenery.

They pulled into the hospital parking garage and sat there for a moment. Cuddy could feel the fear clawing its way through her body. She didn't want to do this. It wasn't fair. Her father was finally reaching out to her, but only because there was a very good chance that he would not survive the day. She was angry with him, but at the same time, she wanted more time with him. Cuddy wanted to yell and scream at him for ignoring her for most of her life, but, at the same time, she wanted to get to know him better, and she wanted him to get to know her -- to see everything that she'd accomplished with her life. Even after everything, there was still a little girl inside of her who ached for her father's approval.

Patrick finally opened his door, bringing her out of her reverie. She took a deep breath and opened her own door and got out. Her eyes automatically met House's and he offered her an almost imperceptible smile. She was surprised as she felt some of the weight of everything leave, but didn't allow her thoughts to dwell on it too much. She was too thankful to have him there and didn't want to ruin everything by over thinking it.

They walked to her father's hospital room and peered in. Cheryl was sitting next to him on the bed and they were smiling. Cuddy cleared her throat and they both looked up to her. She managed a weak smile as Jack and Patrick came into the room from behind her. Cheryl got up and enveloped both of the young men in a hug. Cuddy looked back into the hallway to see House watching her.

"I'm … going to go to the cafeteria," he said awkwardly. She smiled in understanding. He was already breaking out of his comfort zone by being here in the first place. There was no way he was going to do the messy family goodbye scene. She turned back to find her father watching her.

"Dr. House?" he asked.

"He's going to grab something to eat from the cafeteria," she answered. Her father nodded and then turned his attention to his wife and sons.

"Would you mind giving Lisa and me some privacy?" he asked them nervously. "We need to talk about some things." Cheryl gave them both an encouraging smile and went to hug her husband. She whispered something into his ear before herding the boys out of the room.

Cuddy looked down as an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"I was a shitty father to you," her father said, cracking the silence open. She looked up and saw a familiar look of guilt in his eyes. She impatiently wiped away the tears that began to fall down her face.

"Yeah, you were," she agreed.

"I … do love you, Lisa," he continued brokenly. "I was just so angry at … myself, your mother … society at large. Everyone. I had this life that I felt like was forced onto me, and it wasn't what I had planned for myself." Cuddy smiled bitterly to herself as she tried to cover up just how much her father's words were tearing her apart. "I … I was so focused on myself that I didn't even notice what I was doing to you and your mother. All I could see was my own pain. I thought the distance between us was because you were a girl. It wasn't until after I met Cheryl and saw how close she was to her father, that I realized I was wrong, and it wasn't until after the boys were born that I realized how much I really failed you. But by then it was too late. We weren't comfortable with each other, and after I missed your graduation …" he trailed off.

"I stopped trying," she finished for him, not even trying to stop the tears from falling down her face. "If you regretted our relationship so much, why didn't you try and contact me? I was sick and tired of trying to get you to be interested in me, but I would have responded if you had made any sort of effort. Why? Why are you waiting until now to tell me all of this?" she asked angrily. "Hell, I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Jack. Tell me, Dad, if Jack hadn't had called me here, would you have even thought to let me know that you were sick?"

"Cheryl and I were talking about calling you when Jack told us that you were coming," he said earnestly. "Lisa, I don't have any sort of good excuse for not trying. I was scared. I was scared of talking to you because if you rejected me, then that was it. There was nothing more I could do and I would have to acknowledge how horribly I failed you."

"You just told me you realized you had failed me," Cuddy countered angrily.

"I had, but … I didn't like to think about it. I … always thought that I would have time to work things out with you, but I got to be too comfortable with the status quo and before I knew it, years had passed by and it seemed unfair to you to try and push myself into your life."

"Unfair? God forbid that you be forced to admit that you weren't perfect," she said bitterly. "No, Dad, what's unfair is that I grew up feeling guilty for 'ruining' your life because I was a girl. It's unfair that I felt responsible for mom's feelings of failure for not providing you with a son," she said, her voice getting progressively louder as she went on. "It's unfair that I've spent my life trying to make up for that fact – even long after I realized that your unhappiness was not my fault. It's not fair that you're only reaching out to me now that you're sick and may be dying and you want to clear your conscience. This isn't even real. I wouldn't be here if you weren't sick," she said and turned to leave – needing to escape the volcano of emotions that had arisen in her, but her father grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Lisa," he whispered painfully. She turned and looked at him. He was so pale. His grip wasn't strong. She could have easily pulled away and left, but the look of genuine remorse and pain in his eyes cut her anger off at the legs.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before continuing softly, "I just … wish we could have talked about all of this a long time ago," she whispered.

"Believe me, Lisa, I do too. But … for what it's worth, I am proud of you. Not just because you're a doctor and the first woman Dean of Medicine, but because of the type of person you are. Another person could have easily resented Jack and Patrick, but you've always sent them things for their birthdays and Christmas. Jack told us about all the help and support you've given him the past few months. No one would have blamed you for not coming up here when he asked for your help, but you dropped everything and were here the same day. You're smart and beautiful and kind … and I just wish that I could take any credit for that."

Cuddy silently took his hand in hers and gave him a watery smile. "I'm sure a boatload of shrinks would love to give you the credit for turning me into an overachieving control freak."

He chuckled a bit. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," she answered. "I do."

They sat there in silence as they allowed the moment to soak in.

"So …" her father began uncomfortably, "Dr. House … he's ..."

"Probably the biggest jackass you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting," she finished for him with a smile.

"He seems to care a lot about you."

Cuddy was stunned into silence as she felt her cheeks redden uncomfortably at the thought of talking to her father about House. "We've … known each other a long time," she said carefully.

"He yelled at me yesterday. For … pushing you away again. He told me that you were a forgiving person … even when someone probably didn't deserve to be forgiven."

Cuddy chuckled a little. "Yeah, well, House would definitely know all about that," she said ruefully.

"Are you two …?"

"No," Cuddy answered, but then she remembered the kiss that morning and she shook her head. "It's complicated." She paused for a moment. Even if she were closer to her father, she could never explain her relationship to House with him. She didn't even really understand it herself. House was being amazingly supportive – in his own way. Hell, he'd been downright tender in his efforts to keep her fed and well rested, but the truth was that she knew it was just temporary. She knew that the moment they went back to New Jersey, the hospital, Wilson and his team, he would return to being his anti-social self. Which was fine, she told herself, brusquely. House was House, and these past few days were some sort of anomaly that she shouldn't get used to. _'But still,'_ a small voice inside of her said, _'you're going to miss having him there to lean on.' _

"It's complicated," she told her father again. "I'm his boss, and he isn't usually this … nice."

"This is him being nice?"

"Oh, you have no idea what he's really capable of," Cuddy said with a smirk.

"You like him too," he told her softly.

Cuddy looked away as she answered, "It's complicated."

"Lisa, I know I have no right to give you any kind of advice, but I'm going to anyways. Sometimes complicated is worth it."

Cuddy didn't answer him. She leaned in to give him a hug. "I'm still pissed at you, and if you make it through the surgery, we're going to have to work on it, but I love you, Dad," she said as she placed a kiss on his cheek before heading towards the door. "I'll go send Cheryl and the boys in."

* * *

House sat at a table in the cafeteria, making a sculpture out of the oatmeal he had bought strictly for this purpose. He'd finished his real breakfast earlier and was now trying to sculpt the thick, sticky, inedible mass into a pair of breasts.

"Having fun?"

He looked up to see Cuddy's weary face looking down at him with a half-amused, half-exasperated expression. He turned back to his sculpture.

"Of course," he answered. "You should be flattered. I'm modeling them after yours."

Cuddy didn't answer as she sat down across from him and took a deep drink from the coffee she had bought. House studied her out of the corner of his eye.

"So," he said after a while, "please tell me I missed the stereotypical reunion scene where he begs for forgiveness for being a worthless son of a bitch, and you do the Hallmark Hall of Fame movie thing and forgive him?"

Cuddy smiled sadly. "We talked. He said that you yelled at him yesterday."

House looked down and stared at the sculpture. He wasn't sure why, but he hadn't expected her father to mention their little tiff yesterday.

"I like to yell at idiots. Just because he's your Dad, doesn't exempt him from that rule," he said as he avoided her gaze. "In fact, your Dad's a bigger idiot than most."

"Really?"

"Most people realize that deathbeds are supposed to be the settings for those heartwarming family moments. They don't need to be guilted into having them. It's a good thing I've had lots of experience manipulating your guilt otherwise you and your Dad would have missed your 'After School Special' moment."

"My hero," she said dryly. She checked her watch and sighed. "They'll be coming to take him soon."

"You should get up there."

"Will you be here?" she asked, wanting to bite her tongue the moment the question was out of her mouth. She didn't want to get used to leaning on him.

He watched her closely before answering. "Of course. I still have to finish my masterpiece here. I plan on doing a series. Your breasts, your legs and then your ass. Of course, I'm going to have to buy a lot more oatmeal to do your ass," he said, gesturing towards the plate. She smiled and got and left him alone at the table. He watched her retreating form -- as always -- enjoying the gentle sway of her walk. He sighed and closed his eyes. What the hell was he doing?

TBC

Let me know what you think.


	12. Chapter 12

Kith and Kin -- Chapter 12

By ellie

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Call the Vatican, it's a miracle! I'm updating. I would promise to not be so long again, but as you know from the last time, I'm a horrible liar. This chapter is partially dedicated to chocolatequeen whose lovely review seemed to spark my muse into finally finishing this chapter.

* * *

House stared at the lumpy oatmeal as he wondered how exactly he had ended up in this situation. If someone had told him last week that he would be with Cuddy at her father's sickbed offering what could be considered moral support, he would have laughed in their faces and then sent them off for a psych evaluation, and yet here he was.

He rubbed his face anxiously. The last time he had comforted anyone like this was when Stacy's mom had died. He remembered her clinging to him as she cried and feeling absolutely useless in the face of her misery. He had laughed when she thanked him for being there for her, but she had insisted that he had really helped her. His mind flashed back to holding Cuddy that morning and how nice she'd felt in his arms and how much nicer it had been to kiss her. He sighed. This had all the markings of becoming complicated. A huge portion of his brain was screaming to get out of Dodge. He was in dangerous territory with her, but then he would remember how grateful she looked to have him there, and he couldn't quite make himself leave.

House finally lumped all the oatmeal together and got up to throw it out. He pushed all of the unwanted feelings away and decided that he was bored. Surely there was something around here to distract him.

* * *

Cuddy had made it back up to her father's room in time to give him a kiss before he went into surgery. Because of her 'status' they had been given a small private room to wait in, away from the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Jack and Patrick were half-heartedly playing their PSPs as Cheryl crocheted and listened to the television. When Cuddy had asked what she was making, Cheryl had blushed and admitted that she just needed something to do with her hands and wasn't making anything in particular. Cuddy, herself, was trying to make do with a very old Newsweek, but was rapidly losing what little interest she had in the magazine when she had picked it up. She wished she had work to do. She could probably get someone to fax her the latest Department Requisitions. They needed to be reviewed, and it would help occupy her mind.

Before she could get up to call anyone, the noise of yelling accompanied by the thump of a cane and an uneven gait filled the hallway outside of the room. House. She should have known that it was physically impossible for him to behave himself for more than an hour at a time. Cuddy sighed in frustration as she geared herself up for the upcoming battle even as she tried to ignore the part of her that welcomed the distraction.

"He's an idiot! You **know** I'm right!" House said with a scowl as Dr. Jacobson, the Dean of Franklin Hospital, angrily lead him to their little waiting room.

"Dr. Cuddy," he said. "I ask that you either you keep Dr. House with you at all times, or I will have him escorted off the premises."

"What happened?" she asked, trying to fight the urge to smack House for inability to play well with others.

"I was right," House insisted once again.

"That may be so, Dr. House, but you had no right to insult Dr. Bricknell the way you did."

"He's a moron who would probably diagnose Dengue fever as case of the sniffles."

"Dr. Cuddy –,"

"Don't worry. He'll stay here and behave," she said, interrupting him mid-tirade. She didn't want to hear it. It wouldn't be anything she hadn't heard before. Hell – it probably wouldn't be anything she hadn't said before.

The older man turned and glared at House before leaving.

"I guess I can kiss that job offer goodbye," he said with a smirk.

"Do I want to know what that was about?" she asked.

"Probably not," he replied. Cuddy just glared at him. "Hey! I saved a guy's life. Isn't that what we doctors are **supposed** to do?" Her glare intensified and he relented. "Some idiot was about to discharge a patient who was obviously not well -- Idiot Boy was probably on his way to screw some nurse in the on call room. I stepped in before the patient completely collapsed and saved the day. Dr. Schweitzer there should be thanking me instead of forcing me into time-out."

"I'm sure that probably has something to do with the words coming out of your mouth as you were saving the patient's life."

"So I called the moron a moron. Big deal."

"I'm sure it is to him. Deans of Medicine get cranky when their doctors get publicly humiliated like that. It tends to lead to lawsuits."

"The guy deserves to be sued! He shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine." House paused and gave her an appraising look. "You know I'm right, Cuddy."

Cuddy closed her eyes as she resisted the urge to scream. He **was** right, damn it, but she understood Jacobson's dilemma. Incompetence was something that should be handled quickly and quietly. Donors tended to get stingy with their money if a hospital's reputation was tarnished. She finally opened her eyes to find House staring at her intently. "Sit," was all she said.

"Woof," House replied before heading to a couch, pulling out a puzzle book from his pocket and sitting down. Cuddy sighed and followed suit. House pulled out another puzzle book and threw it at her. She looked at him questioningly.

"So you don't break down and have Wilson fax over some work for you to do. If you try and do anything in the state you're in, you're liable to end up approving ten new beds in the ER, and you're going to need that money for other things like replacing broken MRI machines."

Cuddy snorted, "House, the next MRI machine you break is coming directly out of your paycheck."

"I notice you didn't deny wanting to have Wilson fax over some work for you to do. Don't tell me you already asked him?"

"No," she replied indignantly.

"You were going to, though." It wasn't a question so Cuddy didn't answer. She was suddenly aware of Jack, Patrick and Cheryl watching them with various degrees of interest. She'd forgotten they hadn't been alone. The way House could command her attention at times almost frightened her. Cuddy turned her attention to the puzzle book. It was a Sudoku book. She'd seen people playing it around the hospital, and she knew the rules, but she'd never taken the time to try it herself. She pulled out her purse and began to rummage around for a pen.

"Got another one in there?" House asked as she pulled one out. She looked around some more and handed him one, and they worked on their puzzles in silence.

Cuddy was unsure of how much time had passed when she heard a loud grumble. She looked up to Patrick, who was embarrassedly covering his stomach, his pink cheeks a nice contrast to his blue hair.

"I guess Punk Boy is hungry," House said.

"I'm fine."

"Patrick, it's way past lunch. Why don't you guys go to the cafeteria to get something," Cheryl said.

"Mom, when was the last time you ate something?" Patrick asked.

"I'm not hungry."

"Well then, neither am I," he answered, although another gurgling noise said something else.

"Patrick."

"Mom, face it. We're not getting anything unless you come too," Jack said, supporting his brother. Cheryl looked over at Cuddy.

"It's fine. I'll stay here. You take the guys and get some lunch."

"Can I bring you anything?" she asked.

"A salad and water would be great," she said.

"Dr. House?"

"Some chips and a Coke. And I think I saw some apple pie when I was down there earlier that looked edible. Oh and a dry reuben with absolutely no pickles."

Cuddy sighed as she reached to get some money for Cheryl, who shook her head. "I've got it, don't worry." Cuddy was about to protest, but Cheryl wouldn't let her. "The boys told me that you ordered Chinese last night so it's no problem. Come on, guys. We'll be right back." Cheryl and the boys left, and Cuddy tried to turn back to her puzzle, but she could feel House turn his studious gaze on her.

"What?" she finally snapped when she couldn't take it anymore.

"Enjoying the Sudoku?"

"Yes," she said, trying, but not totally succeeding, to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She knew he was up to something. "Thank you for getting it for me."

"Don't thank me too much. I used your credit card to pay for it."

"What?" she asked, reaching for her purse before noticing House's best, 'I got you' face. "Grow up."

His grin widened before pointing back to the book. "It was either that or 'Playboy Illustrated Trivia Book' from the Adult Bookstore across the street, but then I remembered how seriously you take this big sister thing and thought you wouldn't want to be responsible for corrupting them so I went with the sudoku instead."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, pretending to be put out. "Damn it. You mean I could be answering questions about who was Playmate of the Year in 1984?"

"That would be Barbara Edwards."

Cuddy chuckled before looking down at the book and stroking the page. "Thanks," she said softly. She didn't just mean for the book – she meant for him staying and helping take her mind off of what was going on. She didn't say all of that, knowing that he would hate to have it verbalized, but she hoped that he understood how she felt.

House shuffled uncomfortably. "Yeah, well … anything's better than Clinic Duty."

She chuckled, knowing that normally he really would rather do Clinic Duty than willingly spend time with a patient's family. "I don't know, House," she said with humor in her voice. "I think I have the power to ruin your big old curmudgeonly image forever."

He looked a little stricken for a moment – probably at the thought of what certain people would do with the information of his being nice – before recovering nicely with a sneer. "Like anyone would ever believe you," he stated certainly. "I've got a lifetime of ass-like behavior on my side."

She merely raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look. "I'll bring Patrick and Jack down as witnesses. They seem to actually like you for some reason."

"Wow -- using your brothers to further your nefarious plans," he said appreciatively. "You are so evil. Which I have to admit is a big turn on."

Cuddy smiled and she saw his gaze fall to her lips for a second. She was instantly thrown back to the early morning kiss. Her heart rate increased even as she berated herself for letting him affect her like this – especially in a hospital waiting room as her father had life threatening surgery. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.

"House," she whispered, not sure what she wanted. Her father's words about complicated sometimes being worth it echoed through her head. Of course, he didn't know House and his kind of complicated.

"Your brothers think I like you," he said in a low voice.

Her breath hitched and she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Really?" she asked not as smoothly as she would have liked. He scooted in closer to her.

"Yeah. Of course, I told them it was all about your ass." She laughed a little as she watched him lean in even closer. "I would follow that ass just about anywhere – Mount Everest, Timbuktu, Newark …" his voice trailed off as his lips brushed against hers. She shivered.

"You'd think I could use that power to get you in the Clinic," she said as she softly returned the kiss and raised her hand to run her fingers through his hair.

He pulled back with serious expression. "I said just about anywhere. Unless you're willing to play 'Doctor' in one of the exam rooms. I think I could get behind that plan." He leaned down and kissed her again. She smiled and allowed him to deepen the kiss, losing herself in the feelings he was creating. She finally pulled back and tucked her head underneath his chin as she tried to regain her equilibrium. Her eyes fell to Cheryl's yarn bag, and she stiffened as it hit her exactly what she was doing and where she was doing it. What was wrong with her? She was making out in a hospital waiting room where anybody could walk in while her father was having surgery.

"Hey," House said and she pulled back to meet his gaze. "This isn't your hospital. You don't have any image that needs to be upheld."

She looked away. "Yeah, because no one here knows who either one of us are," she pointed out sarcastically.

"Cuddy, I hate to break it to you, but everyone in the medical community already thinks we're boinking like bunnies. Supposedly, it's either how you make me 'behave' or that I am so good in bed that you can't bring yourself to fire me."

"Like you've ever behaved for me."

"Sex god it is, then," he said with a grin. He leaned closer and leered at her, "You know, I might behave with a little of the right incentive."

She put her head in her hands, not sure if she wanted to groan or laugh. Why had he kissed her? She fought the urge to ask him that and the other million questions that were buzzing around in her head, afraid that if she did ask them, then he would remember that he really didn't like her 95 percent of the time and decide to go home, and she didn't want him to leave. Not yet.

"Cuddy, it's really hard to banter if you don't keep up your end of the conversation," House said, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up. "I inferred that I might willingly do Clinic Duty in exchange for sexual favors, and you're supposed to pretend to get all offended, even though your wardrobe screams that you're obviously open to negotiations, an then you're supposed to spout something about me keeping my job, blah, blah, blah and not ending up as a homeless person, blah, blah, blah."

Any response she would have made was stopped by the return of Patrick, Jack and Cheryl. Cuddy jumped back from House, aware of exactly how close they were sitting to each other. Cheryl didn't seem to notice, but she caught Jack and Patrick exchanging matching eye rolls. Guilt immediately churned up in her stomach. She was quite possibly the worst daughter/sister in the entire world. Who, outside of House's stupid soap operas, made out in a hospital during a family member's life threatening surgery?

She felt a kick to her leg and turned to House who was giving her an exasperated look. She gave him one right back. He may not care what anyone else thought, but she did. He shook his head with a grimace.

"Where's my food?" he asked the others, turning away from her.

"Hold your horses," Patrick griped as he starting pulling food out of the bag.

"I'm going to go wash my hands," Cuddy said, wanting to get out of the room for a little bit to pull herself together.

She quickly exited and headed for the restroom. She was almost afraid to look at her reflection in the mirror, but it wasn't as bad as she feared. Her hair looked a little mussed, and her cheeks were still flushed -- although that was probably from embarrassment -- but there was nothing that screamed that she'd been making out a bit in the hospital. She washed her hands and walked back into the hallway where she ran into Patrick who was smirking at her knowingly.

"You know, I always thought that Grey's Anatomy exaggerated the amount of hooking up that goes on in hospitals, but now I'm not so sure."

Cuddy could feel her face turn red once more – she never blushed this much – as she sputtered and tried to organize the million thoughts that came blazing through her mind.

"Oh God," she finally got out. "Do you think your mom knows?"

"No. She's too worried about Dad to notice anything else."

Cuddy repressed a groan. She didn't think it was possible for her to feel any guiltier than she already did, but apparently she was wrong.

"I don't want you to think that I'm not worried about Dad," she began. "I am. I don't know what's wrong with me," she said as she plopped down on a couch in a small lounge area.

"I'm not mad," Patrick assured her, sitting down next to her. "I actually think it's kind of nice, in an old people getting together kind of way."

"What!" she yelled, not sure whether to be horrified or offended.

"He's obviously got the hots for you, and you seem to like each other well enough."

"He doesn't like me," Cuddy said without thinking and immediately wished she could pull the words back into her mouth.

Patrick looked at her with utter disbelief. "Are you nuts? A guy just doesn't hang out in a hospital waiting room with a girl he doesn't like. He can't keep his eyes off of you. He's keeping tabs of how much you're eating and that you aren't completely stressed. And he totally yelled at Dad faced his wrath for you, which takes some guts. You're only **that** nice to people you don't like if you're Mother Teresa, and House ain't no Mother Teresa."

"No, but House enjoys yelling at people. He likes pissing them off," she wearily explained to him. Could this day get any more surreal? She'd kissed House twice and was now discussing her love life with her teenage brother as her father was having a massive tumor removed. "And as for the other stuff ..." she paused, wondering why she was sharing like this, but she couldn't quite make herself stop. "Look, I will admit that there is a certain attraction between House and myself, but this is not how we usually behave around one another, and when we get back to our normal environment …" she stopped as she felt tears prick the back of her eyes, but forced herself to go on. "When we get back to Princeton then everything will go back to normal, and he'll more than likely act like this little aberration never happened." She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her face. "Which is probably for the best. House is House. There's no middle ground with him, and I am his boss which means that we're always in conflict." She gave him a wry expression. "You've seen how acts here, and believe it or not, this is him on his best behavior. He can't stand me most of the time."

Patrick raised his eyebrows in surprised amusement. "He likes you, Lisa. When Jack told me that you were coming up, I wasn't sure if I wanted you here. I don't know you. You've always been almost a taboo subject with Dad. So I asked House about you because he seemed like someone who wouldn't lie to be nice. He told me that you were smart and funny and weren't entirely horrible to be around, which is probably a compliment, coming from him."

Cuddy felt a tear break free and she impatiently wiped it away. She couldn't believe that House had said those things about her, but at the same time, she didn't want Patrick's words to give her hope that they could ever be ... more. She knew that House liked her on **some** level, but it had never been enough.

"It's complicated," she finally told Patrick who seemed to be waiting for some sort of response. She could tell that he really didn't understand. She couldn't blame him. She didn't really understand either. Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain some control over her emotions and looked down the hallway. "We should probably get back before they send out a search party." She turned back to look at him with a genuine smile. "Besides, I'm sure hearing me ramble on about things you probably don't care about isn't what you were hoping for when you planned this little ambush."

Patrick shrugged and got up. "I was hoping to turn you bright pink so I was pretty successful. The rest of the stuff ... well I guess there are worst things I could be doing."

Cuddy smiled and hooked her arm around his. "Patrick … I know it's kind of weird, but thanks. I think I needed to get some of that stuff off my chest."

"No problem. It's nice to think about something other than the surgery for five minutes," he said sadly.

"Yeah," Cuddy agreed as she followed Patrick back to the waiting room.

tbc -- hopefully soon, but no promises.

* * *

You know the drill ... :-)


End file.
